


c h a n d e l i e r

by anbethmarie



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, a little bit of smut, breaking their own and each other's hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anbethmarie/pseuds/anbethmarie
Summary: Anne Shirley asks her *best friend* Gilbert Blythe to accompany her to the Halifax orphanage reunion party as her supposed fiance in order to show all the people who had made her life a misery that she's got her love life together.And then, when she gets drunk, the consequences are both unexpected and disastrous.Or are they?





	1. old teenage hopes

‘Anne?’ 

It was seven a.m. on a July morning, and twenty-one years old medicine student Gilbert Blythe had just been woken up by the shrill sound of his doorbell. 

Anne Shirley, dressed in white and with a dew-dampened, loose braid of coppery hair slung over her shoulder, looked very much as though she had just dropped by on her way to rejoin the fairy kingdom that was her natural habitat. 

Or at least so it seemed to Gilbert as he stood there blinking down at her in the early morning sunlight.

‘I’m so sorry for dragging you out of bed,’ Anne gave him a contrite smile, tugging nervously at the coiling strands at the end of her braid. ‘But I have an immense favour to ask you, and I’ve been putting it off forever, and I just couldn’t sleep, and—‘

‘Anne,’ Gilbert groaned, dragging a hand over his face in an attempt to gather his woolly thoughts. ‘Slow down. Or better yet, come in and sit down, and I’ll try and make myself a little less unconscious, okay?’

‘Okay.’

When Gilbert emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet from putting his head under a stream of cold water, Anne was sitting by the kitchen table biting her lip, her fingers digging nervously into the skin above her collarbones. 

‘All right, what is it?’ he asked, leaning against the counter opposite her.

‘Something incredibly stupid.’ Anne shifted uneasily in her chair. ‘But I just have to do it, Gil. I have to show them up. And you have to help me.’

Gilbert frowned confusedly. ‘Show who up?’

‘The – the girls from the orphanage.’

He stared at her with raised eyebrows. Anne heaved a heavy sigh.

‘I want to show them I didn’t actually end up like they always said I would,’ she said quietly, a fierce gleam lightening up her eyes.

‘Like they always said you—,’ Gilbert’s eyes slid down to where her fingers were still tugging and scratching mercilessly at the pale skin below her throat. ‘Anne, stop that!’ 

He practically leapt up to her and tore her restlessly working hand away. Along her right collarbone there was a scratch that was actually bleeding. Gilbert looked up, the  
expression of his eyes a mixture of incomprehension and fright. ‘Anne, what have you done?’ 

‘What?’ Anne repeated absent-mindedly, her hand going back up almost of its own accord. Gilbert snatched at it quickly and kept it down in a tight grasp together with the other one. 

‘You’re bleeding,’ he said, his eyes scanning her face.

Anne frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise what I was doing. I just—‘

‘You didn’t realise you were tearing your own skin?’ Gilbert asked incredulously, straightening up. 

He opened the cupboards, took out a packet of cotton pads and, crouching in front of her, began dabbing delicately at the wound. His jaw was clenched, and Anne suddenly felt very uncomfortable and foolish.

‘It’s just because I’m so nervous. I’m afraid you’ll say no and get angry with me.’

At that, Gilbert looked up in exasperated disbelief. ‘Anne, you can’t just scratch yourself to the point of bleeding because you think someone is going to get angry with you!’ The sternness of his voice made her wince, and he added hastily, in a much softer tone, ‘Anne, you know you have no reason to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.’ Almost unwittingly, her reached up and stroked her cheek gently with the back of his palm.

Anne’s eyes became even wider than usual, and it seemed to her something went wrong with her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Her whole being was for the moment concentrated in the one spot where Gilbert’s warm, rough skin was touching hers.

Her gaze flickered to his lips, and suddenly she felt completely breathless. She pushed the chair back, getting up so abruptly she almost knocked Gilbert over.

‘I – I’d better go,’ she stuttered, turning towards the door without lifting her eyes.

‘No, Anne, wait!’ Gilbert snapped out of his trance and did his best to regain his balance, which was no easy task considering that all he could think of was how extraordinarily smooth and cool Anne’s skin had been to his touch. He followed her out into the hall. 

‘I promise to do whatever you ask, so that you don’t have to feel nervous anymore,’ he said banteringly.

Anne took a deep breath and turned around to face him. The way he looked at her – cool, collected, smiling casually – at once reassured her and made her feel angry with herself for acting so childishly. Folding her arms across her chest, she said,

‘But it’s really something extremely stupid. And embarrassing. But,’ she added, smiling sourly, ‘I want to—‘

‘Show them up, I know,’ Gilbert chuckled. ‘Come on, out with it. I’ve said yes already, remember? There’s no going back now.’

‘Willyougotoareunionpartywithmeandpretendtobemyfiancé?’ 

Gilbert blinked. ‘Pardon?’ 

Anne gave an internal groan. What had she been thinking? However, there really was no going back now. She had at least to try to make Gilbert understand so that he might not think her a complete psycho.

‘There is a reunion party next Saturday. At the orphanage. In Halifax. And I don’t want to go alone. But I also don’t want to not go at all and be thought a coward. So I thought I’d ask you to come with me,’ with every word she uttered, Anne was getting more and more red in the face. The worst, however, was still to come. She pulled herself together with a tremendous mental effort and looked up and into Gilbert’s searching eyes. ‘And I want you to pretend that – that we’re together. Like,’ she swallowed hard, looking away again, the way his pupils seemed to perceptibly widen making her stomach churn. ‘Like, romantically. That you’re my fiancé, to be exact.’

‘Your fiancé,’ Gilbert repeated colourlessly.

Anne felt desperate. She clasped her hands together and looked up at him again with an expression almost of supplication.

‘Gil, I know it’s a terribly, extremely embarrassing thing to ask,’ she said, striving to keep her voice level. ‘But you can’t even imagine how – how—‘ she swallowed again, a lump forming in her throat. ‘They used to be really mean,’ she finished lamely, looking down at her feet. ‘They said no one would ever want to be with a freak like me. And if I go alone they will know they have been right. And I couldn’t stand that. Not after all the – after all the things they put me through. That’s why I’m asking you to come with me.’

Keeping her eyes glued to the floor, she saw Gilbert’s feet come into her field of vision. Then she felt the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder.

‘Of course I’ll do it, Anne,’ he said, to her relief, in a rather matter-of-fact tone. 

‘Thank you.’ She lifted her head. Gilbert smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. 

‘No problem.’

They gazed silently at each other for a moment. His hand slid down her arm slowly, leaving delicious tingles in its wake, until he held her palm in his. He gave her fingers a quick, light squeeze, and then, to Anne's infinite regret, the warmth of his skin disappeared.

She shook herself up. ‘I’ll be going then. I’ll let you know about the details.’

‘Sure.’

Gilbert stood looking on as she made her way to the door and looked over her shoulder on the threshold to give him a small farewell wave of the hand.

His mind was going wild.


	2. it's my head or my heart // and i'm caught in the middle

With a sigh of relief, Anne collapsed onto the train seat. Gilbert threw their luggage on the seat opposite and sat down next to her.

‘I regret going already,’ said Anne sulkily. ‘I hate travelling this way. It brings back so many awful memories.’

‘Treat this trip as a way to remove the curse, then,’ Gilbert replied resolutely. ‘After all, that’s what we’ve set out to do, right? To show those people that they have been wrong and that your past doesn’t define you.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, that’s the plan. Except that it’s all a lie. My past does define me, and always will. All right, Gil, don’t say anything,’ she added peevishly, seeing him open his mouth to contradict her. ‘I know you don’t think that. But factual evidence speaks against you.’

‘Factual evidence?’ he chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at her. ‘And what would that be? You have a loving adoptive mother and lots of devoted friends, you’re the brightest student at your faculty, and you’re heading to the party with a handsome, dark stranger at your side. Which party exactly is the cursed one?’

‘The stranger, of course. He’s insufferably stuck-up.’ Despite her terse tone, Anne was smiling. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a disaster after all. Evidently, Gilbert was determined to treat the whole affair as one big joke. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Anne looking out of the window at the countryside outside and Gilbert sitting with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

Then he remembered. He remembered something that suddenly made him feel rather ill at ease. It was all just play-pretend, he told himself firmly. That’s the way Anne wanted it, and he wasn’t going to mess with his own head by taking any of this seriously.

He picked up his backpack and started rummaging through it inner pockets while Anne sat looking on with indifference.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ he said finally, producing a small black box. ‘A kind of – of stage prop.’ He looked up at Anne. She was frowning, her eyes fixed on the box.

‘A stage prop,’ she repeated, transferring her gaze to his eyes. Two patches of bright red had crept into her cheeks.

‘Yeah. Because we’re supposed to be engaged, right?’ Gilbert attempted a smirk. ‘So I thought it would be a good idea – you know, adding to the credibility of the whole thing – if you were to wear this.’ He popped the box open, revealing a ring with a delicate pearl motive in the middle of it. ‘I know it’s not really that impressive, but—‘

‘It’s lovely,’ said Anne quietly. ‘I love pearls. Where did you get it, Gil? Please tell me you didn’t actually buy it specially for the occasion.’ Her eyes flitted anxiously back to his face.

‘I didn’t buy it specially for the occasion. I borrowed it from Mary,’ he lied without batting an eyelash. Let her think I stole it, he thought, I don’t care so long as she’ll actually consent to wear it.

‘You told her what it is for?’ Anne asked in terrified disbelief. ‘She’s going to think me crazy!’

‘No, of course I didn’t tell her,’ Gilbert pretended to huff. Before Anne could question him any further, he added hastily, ‘Permit me?’ reaching out a hand. 

Anne bit her lip, her gray eyes studying his face thoughtfully. Then she looked down and placed her small palm in his extended hand. Her skin was cool against his. He picked up the ring and slowly slid it onto the proper finger. It fit perfectly.

Still keeping her hand locked in his, Gilbert looked up. It seemed to him that there was a mute question visible in the crystalline depths of Anne’s eyes, and her felt an overwhelming desire to answer it. Impulsively, he reached out to grasp Anne’s other hand.

‘Anne, I—‘ he stuttered, leaning in a little closer. Anne’s eyelids fluttered, and a perceptible shiver ran through her slender frame. ‘I have to—‘

‘Tickets, please,’ a peremptory voice boomed out above their heads. Anne snatched her hands away and retreated into her corner. Gilbert, his jaw clenched, fumblingly took out his wallet and handed the tickets to the conductor.

When he turned back to Anne, she was sitting with her arms folded in such a way that the hand on which the ring was lodged was tucked away and out of sight. Gilbert was hoping to see some kind of sign of the way in which the moment they had just shared had affected her, to see whether she was angry or annoyed or perhaps even sad that it had been interrupted. 

However, Anne looked merely tired and rather absent-minded.

‘Good thing you’re the one carrying the tickets,’ she observed with a small, mocking smile. ‘I would certainly have lost them, and there would be an end of our cheerful little journey.’

His eyes scanned her face quietly for a moment. Anne didn’t flinch. Evidently, she was determined to pretend that nothing had happened. Or, thought Gilbert bitterly, the more probable explanation was that indeed nothing had happened, and that, as usual, he had completely misconstrued the meaning of the whole situation. 

‘Yeah,’ he replied in a dull tone, stretching his legs out in front of himself and shutting his eyes. ‘Good thing.’

***

‘What do you mean, a double room? I have specifically booked two single rooms in advance. I can show you the receipt—‘ 

‘I’m sorry, miss,’ the elderly receptionist looked genuinely contrite as he spread his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. ‘It’s our mistake, I admit it, and we are ready to make up for it—‘

‘You can best make up for it by at least giving us a twin room,’ Anne put in decisively.

‘I would like nothing better, miss,’ the receptionist was kindly, but imperturbable. ‘But it’s simply not possible. All the twin rooms are taken.’

Anne turned to Gilbert with a defeated frown. ‘What are we going to do? Go to some other hotel?’

He shook his shoulders slightly. ‘Well, if you insist of course we can do that. Or we can just take this room here, and I’ll sleep on the floor,’ he said, expecting Anne to reject the proposition promptly and indignantly. 

Anne, however, was really tired out by the nearly five hour journey; she was also very much determined to give Gilbert to understand, after the ring incident on the train, that she was not in the least affected or made shy by his presence.

‘All right then,’ she conceded with a heavy sigh. ‘To be honest, I’m exhausted, and I just want to have a bath and go to bed.’

Gilbert flashed her a crooked smile and proceeded to accept the key and sign the register book. 

***

Half an hour later, Anne emerged rather abruptly from the bathroom, having forgotten to take her hair conditioner with her. 

Gilbert had gone out again as soon as they had brought their luggage in, saying that he needed some fresh air after the stuffiness of the train and would be back in about an hour’s time. Therefore, certain that she would find the room empty, Anne dashed out of the bathroom wrapped in a rather skimpy towel, her bare limbs glistening from the shower she had just taken. 

And, as soon as she had taken the first step into the room, she collided headlong with Gilbert’s chest. The impetus of her movement made her stumble back, and she was only prevented from falling by a pair of big, warm hands gripping her naked arms to steady her.

Gilbert, who had found the evening bustle of the streets unappealing and decided to return earlier than he had originally meant to, was just about to knock at the bathroom door and make his presence known to Anne when the door sprang open and she cannoned into him. 

Now, as he stood with his fingers pressed into the delicate, moist skin of her arms, the inside of his mouth gone completely dry, he wondered whether this was the best or the worst moment of his life. Here was the girl of his dreams, with most of her slender limbs bare in all their creamy, freckled glory and her wet hair streaming in dripping coils down her exposed neck.

Then Gilbert’s eyes came back to Anne’s face, and he saw that her expression was one of fright and mortification. He instantly let go of her arms and moved away, turning his back on her in an attempt to grant her at least a shred of privacy.

‘Anne, I’m extremely sorry. I swear was just going to let you know I’m here,’ he blurted out, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

There was no response, only the sound of Anne’s bare feet crossing the room quickly on her way to and from her bag, and then the slam of the bathroom door.

When she came out again, dressed in long-sleeved pyjamas and with a dressing gown wrapped tightly around her body, she neither spoke to nor looked at him. She took a comb out of her bag and, sitting on the edge of the bed, proceeded to untangle the wet strands of her hair.

‘Anne, I really didn’t want this to happen,’ Gilbert said with insistence, sitting down next to her. ‘You can’t blame me for something that is in no way my fault.’

When she paid no attention to those explanatory words, he lost his patience and grabbed her by the wrist in an attempt to elicit a reaction, any reaction – anything rather than this impenetrable silence.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Anne screeched, jumping up and holding her comb in an extended hand in front of her like a weapon. ‘Isn’t it enough that you got to ogle me?’

Gilbert was just about to protest violently against such an unfair accusation when he noticed something haunted and dark in the depths of Anne’s eyes, something which made him dimly surmise the real reason behind her reaction.

Slowly, he got up as well, and, looking her in the eyes in an attempt to convince her he was being honest, said in a quiet and soothing tone, ‘Anne, I’m sorry. I realise it must be really difficult for you, being here, in this town, where you have been through so many painful things. But you know that I am not like – like the people who made you suffer. You know I would never hurt you. You know that, right?’

Anne’s expression became gradually less tense, and she let her hand fall limply to her side. Her lips were trembling, but she controlled herself with a visible effort, shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply. When she opened them again they were very bright, but there was no trace of the fright Gilbert had seen in them a moment before.

‘Yes, I know, Gil,’ she said quietly, bravely attempting a smile. ‘I’m sorry for overreacting like this. After all, it was my idea to drag you all the way here.’

‘I don’t mind being dragged around by you,’ he grinned, relieved that they were more or less reconciled. ‘All right, I’ll go shower now. It’s nearly eleven already, and tomorrow’s a big day. And since this floor is pretty hard, it’ll probably take me some time to fall asleep,’ he added with an exaggeratedly unhappy frown.

‘If this is a covert attempt at rousing my pity and making me suggest we share the bed, don’t trouble yourself,’ scoffed Anne. ‘I’d sooner sleep on the floor myself. Here’s your pillow,’ she threw him one of the two pillows lying on the big marital bed. ‘And behave as quiet as possible, because I’m going directly to sleep. Goodnight.’ 

‘Sleep tight,’ Gilbert chuckled, picking up his pyjamas and heading towards the bathroom. ‘As for the bed bugs, don’t worry, I won’t let them bite.’

He gave her a roguish smile and closed the bathroom door. 

Anne got into the bed, turned off the light, and fell unhappily to thinking about how the girls at the orphanage would poke fun at her for being too gaunt and pale. She supposed Gilbert must have been repulsed by what he saw when she came out of the bathroom in what was, for all intents and purposes, a state of undress. It was really the humiliating awareness of how unattractive she was that had made her lash out at him like that.

As for Gilbert’s closeness itself, Anne realised very well that she never actually felt threatened by it, and that the touch of his hands on her skin was anything but unpleasant. It was only the fear that he might suddenly turn out to be like all the other boys that made her react in the fight or flight way.

And perhaps it was time to let go of that fear. After all, she had known Gilbert for almost seven years now, and he had been invariably kind and considerate, towards her as well as towards everyone else, Billy Andrews being the sole exception.

When Gilbert came out of the bathroom, Anne pretended to be asleep. In reality, she lay watching his shadowy figure move on tiptoe around the room. 

Finally, she was lulled to sleep by the regular, deep sound of his breathing.

***

Saturday dawned sunny and hot. Anne and Gilbert spent the morning and early afternoon wandering around the city, for he insisted that she ought to make some pleasant memories in order to exorcise the unhappy old ones.

They came back to the hotel at a little past two, and then Anne spent an hour and a half showering and doing her hair and makeup. 

‘I’m sorry, but you’ll have to help me, Gil,’ she said apologetically, emerging from the bathroom in her knee-length silvery dress. She turned around, the buttons on the back of her bodice done only halfway up. ‘I simply can’t reach any higher.’

With trembling hands, Gilbert brushed her hair aside and began fumblingly to tackle the tiny buttons. He couldn’t help noticing that the skin of Anne’s back was just as smooth and freckled as that of her face and arms. For some reason, the thought made his stomach give a weird lurch.

As for Anne, she found the sensation of feeling Gilbert’s breath on her neck decidedly unnerving. 

‘What’s taking you so long?’ she asked more harshly than she had intended to.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just that these buttons are so infernally small. There. Done.’

‘Thanks. Do I look presentable?’ Anne asked, doing a small pirouette, unable to hide her childish joy in wearing something so pretty.

Gilbert simply stared. Anne had always been beautiful in his eyes, but this Anne was at once excitingly unfamiliar and like something out of a dream. 

She interpreted his silence in the worst way possible.

‘The polite thing is to say ‘yes’, even if you don’t genuinely think so,’ she snapped with a slight note of resentment in her voice.

‘You—‘ Gilbert gulped and cleared his throat. ‘You are beautiful, Anne.’

For a moment, she gazed at him silently, chewing on her lower lip. Finally, she tore her gaze away, her heart pounding in her ears. Not ‘you look beautiful’; ‘you are beautiful’. Such a tiny difference – and yet it caused Anne such joy.

‘I love a spontaneous compliment like that,’ she said with a somewhat strained giggle. ‘All right, go and tidy yourself up. We have to leave soon.’


	3. do you want to go slow? are you feeling heavy? would you rather get drunk? would you rather make out?

The moment Anne and Gilbert walked into the room, a tall, pretty girl standing near the entrance with a glass in one hand and a smartphone in the other caught sight of them, a broad grin appearing on her somewhat vacuous face.

‘Oh my gosh! Anne Shirley?’

Gilbert shot a quick look at Anne. She was pale, but her expression was one of fierceness rather than fear. He took her hand in his and wound their fingers together. 

‘Take them head-on, Anne,’ he whispered, and she gave him a crooked sideways smile.

The girl approached them, squinting short-sightedly. As soon as she was close enough to see well, her gaze focused on Gilbert, and her eyes went wide in obvious astonishment.

‘Hello, Eve,’ Anne said in a clear voice, unconsciously leaning into Gilbert’s arm a little. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Nice to see you too, Shirley,’ replied Eve drawlingly, her eyes never leaving Gilbert’s face. He looked back at her with a mechanical smile, his whole attention centred on the way Anne’s arm was pressed to his. ‘Won’t you introduce me to your escort?’

‘This is Gilbert.’ Anne felt her throat tighten. Could she actually bring herself to utter those words out loud? ‘My fiancé,’ she finished, and she felt Gilbert’s fingers close tighter around hers. ‘Gilbert, this is Eve Green.’

‘Your fiancé?’ Eve stared. Then she let out a giggle that was in some indescribable way extremely suggestive. ‘Wow. I must say you’ve managed well, Shirley. You must know, Gilbert, that we always thought little Anne would not be the type to chase after boys.’

‘That’s actually right,’ answered Gilbert calmly. ‘It was me chasing after her the whole time, not the other way around.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Really. She caught my eye the first time I saw her, and since that day all my efforts have been centred on getting her to agree to be friends with me.’

‘Friends?’ Eve scrunched her nose up suspiciously.

‘Yeah,’ Gilbert never missed a beat. ‘Six years getting her to be friends with me, and then another year to get her to admit she had feelings for me. No easy task, huh?’

Anne’s stomach was churning. Why was he talking like this? There was absolutely no need to get into detailed explanations with Eve Green of all people. 

Actually, Gilbert himself didn’t fully know why he had said that. Perhaps it was the way Anne looked tonight, so ethereal and otherworldly and altogether as though she wasn’t h i s Anne at all but some other girl, making him feel he had to assert his hold on her.

‘Well then, I suppose it is no use giving you my number, is it? Or perhaps I will, just in case you two ever decide it’s not the real thing after all,’ Eve added with a glimmer of hope.

‘No danger of that,’ replied Anne, hotly and unthinkingly. ‘It is the real thing, we’ve had six years to find out.’ She could feel Gilbert’s eyes boring into the side of her head, and immediately regretted opening her mouth at all. ‘If you excuse us now, Eve, we’ll go get something to drink,’ she added hastily, tugging Gilbert away into a relatively empty part of the room. 

She looked him straight in the eyes and said with deliberation, ‘Gilbert, I want us to be clear on something. Let’s agree that nothing we say and do today counts, okay? It’s all just play-pretend.’

Gilbert’s heart contracted painfully, but he managed to maintain an expression of nonchalant amusement. ‘Of course not. After all, we have to say and do the right things if we want these people to get the impression that we’re a happily engaged couple, right?’

‘Right,’ Anne nodded decisively.

‘Drinks, lovebirds?’ asked a confident voice beside them. They turned around and saw a tall, broad-shouldered boy with the smug face of a romcom movie actor.

His brows shot up as he took in Anne’s face. ‘Heck, Shirley, is it really you? So you’re the ugly duckling case after all, huh?’

‘Hi, Derrick,’ Anne replied smilingly, feeling Gilbert’s arm sneak around her waist. ‘Should I take that as a compliment?’

‘Decidedly,’ Derrick’s eyes looked her up and down. 

Gilbert drew her closer to his side, clearing his throat loudly. ‘I’m Gilbert, Anne’s fiancé,’ he said, offering the other boy his hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Derrick.’

Derrick shook Gilbert’s proffered hand, chuckling. ‘You are right to make sure everyone knows that, bro. I bet there’s some blokes here who wouldn’t mind stealing a dance with your little swan princess. Well, what about those drinks?’

They accepted the drinks, the first in a series, for a lot of people recognised and approached Anne. The girls made no bones about trying to flirt with Gilbert, which caused Anne to cling to his arm with a possessiveness which she got progressively less subtle about hiding. As for Gilbert, the leery looks Anne received from most of the guys made him want to punch them and then get her out of here as quickly as he could.

After over an hour spent thus in chatting and drinking, Anne, who was completely unused to alcoholic beverages, was giggling uncontrollably and clutching at Gilbert’s arm for support, all her insecurities seemingly forgotten. Gilbert, who had a stronger head, was a little dizzy, but still sober enough to feel a bittersweet pang at the thought that none of this was real.

There were sitting at one of the tables, Anne’s head resting on his shoulder. If it was up to Gilbert, he could stay like this all night. However, Anne was too restless to sit still for too long.

‘Come on, let’s dance,’ she said, getting up and tugging at his hand. ‘I need to sweat some of these infernal drinks out of my system.’

‘You definitely do,’ Gilbert let her lead him into a darkened corner of the dance floor. ‘I shouldn’t have let you have so many.’

‘Oh, don’t be a mother,’ giggled Anne, winding her arms around his neck and drawing herself close. She pretended to pout and he snickered, putting his arms around her. 

The music made an abrupt change from upbeat to slow, and as they swayed in time to it Anne put her head against Gilbert chest, tucking it snugly beneath his chin. It was really the beating of his heart that she was dancing to now. She wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular – her brain was too fuzzy for that anyway – she was just revelling in the sensation of being thus wrapped in his arms, his breath tickling her hair. 

Then one of Gilbert’s hands travelled up her spine to her neck, brushing her hair to the side. She shivered and lifted her face. His eyes were two glimmering pinpoints in the semi-darkness that seemed to envelop and separate them from the rest of the people on the dance floor.

Gilbert put one of his hands against her cheek, and she leaned into it. ‘Anne,’ he breathed, and there was such tenderness in his voice that some restraining dam seemed to burst within her. 

Without a word, Anne slid out of Gilbert’s arms and tugged at his hand to make him follow her. She crossed the room without lifting her head or turning back to look at him even once. They went out into the warm, humming summer night. Anne turned the corner of the building and, as soon as they were hidden by the shadows cast by the wall, pushed herself up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

For the first two seconds, Gilbert was too flabbergasted to react. Then, however, Anne’s voice, needy and low, whispered his name, and he knew he was lost.

His lips began to work frantically against hers, his hands travelling up and down her spine, tracing the line of the buttons he had helped her do up only a few hours before. The image of him undoing them popped into his brain, making him groan and press Anne closer. She sighed his name again, and Gilbert felt her tremble. 

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her gently against the nearby wall. Then, dragging his mouth away from hers, he laid a trail of scorching kisses down her neck and the exposed skin of her collarbones. 

‘Gilbert,’ she gasped, bringing his face back up to hers. Open-mouthed, they kissed again, and inevitably their tongues touched. Anne’s nails were digging into Gilbert’s scalp in a futile attempt to bring him closer, and, almost unthinkingly, he lifted her up so that, with her back pressed firmly against the wall, she could wrap her legs around his hips. 

Their mouths were finally on a level now and the kiss became at once less feverish and more intense, Gilbert’s mouth and tongue exploring hers so slowly and thoroughly that Anne, who was by now practically writhing against his body as he leaned into her, instinctively closed her legs tighter around his waist, a small, lust-filled whimper escaping her as she did so.

That divine sound made Gilbert lose every last feeble remnant of self-control, and he gave in to the overwhelming urge to run his hands down the sides of Anne’s body and then further down until his fingers were ghosting over the rim of her skirt. He slid his trembling fingers beneath the gauzy fabric and then up until they grazed the naked skin of her thighs just above the band of her garters. 

‘Oh, Gilbert, please,’ Anne breathed, shivering, not really knowing what it was that she was asking him for, only conscious of a maddening desire pulsing somewhere in the innermost depths of her body.

‘Anne,’ he panted against her trembling lips. ‘My sweet, sweet Anne, I—‘ 

Suddenly, there was the sound of steps of someone emerging from the building and heading in their direction. 

Anne’s eyes, so wide they seemed to take up half of her face, bore into Gilbert’s for a moment. Then she slipped her feet down onto the ground, her bundled-up skirt falling down to her knees again, her hands pushing him away almost blindly.

The face of Derrick appeared a few feet away. ‘Here you are,’ he said, his voice jarringly loud in the surrounding silence. ‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’ he chuckled. ‘I came looking for you, Anne. We want to take a kind of souvenir photo, and you’re the only one missing, so I thought I’d try to find you.’

‘Of course,’ Anne’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched. ‘Come on, then.’

She slipped her hand into the crook of Derrick’s arm and, without a single glance back, left Gilbert leaning against the wall with his face hidden in his hands.

***

When he found her again, half an hour later, she was seated at a table in a corner of the room in Eve Green’s company, two empty glasses in front of them and each of them sipping on another one. They were sitting head to head, choking on the giggles into which they burst every five seconds.

They were so wrapped up in their drinks and their laughter that neither of them noticed Gilbert until he actually stood beside their table. 

‘Anne, I think it’s time we left,’ he said quietly.

Anne blinked hard and looked up at him, her face blank. Then she burst into a fit of giggles even more spasmodic than the previous ones.

‘All right,’ she managed to wheeze out, getting up and collecting her bag. ‘It was nice seeing you, Eve.’

Eve hiccoughed. ‘You’re going to take her safely home, right?’ she addressed Gilbert, squinting up at him. ‘She’s pretty much fucked up. I wouldn’t want her to get lost on her way.’

‘Oh, I’m safe with Gil,’ sniggered Anne, clutching at his arm. ‘He’d never let anyone lay a finger on me, much less do it himself. Right, Gil?’

Gilbert felt like he was going to throw up. Anne was dead drunk, so much was obvious. And he had taken advantage of her intoxicated state. He despised himself so much her felt physically sick. He shut his eyes and, clenching his jaw, swallowed hard in an attempt to regain some vestige of composure.

‘Of course I’ll take care of her,’ he said, hating himself more with every word. ‘See you sometime, Eve.’

‘Hopefully!’

They left, followed by the echo of Eve’s increasingly loud hiccoughing.

***

After about three hours’ dreamless sleep, Anne’s eyes snapped open. 

At first she knew neither where she was nor what she was doing there. 

Then she remembered. She remembered the way Gilbert’s hard body was pressing her into the wall. She remembered the achingly intense way in which he explored her mouth with his tongue. And she remembered the feeling of his fingers touching her thigh, and the way she had thought she would not be able to stand it if he didn’t do something to resolve the pressure she felt mounting up inside her.

Then she remembered the stern look on Gilbert’s face when he came in looking for her afterwards, the way the mere sight of her seemed to make him sick. 

And no wonder. After all, she had been the one to initiate and encourage all... all that had happened. And she had been drunk while doing so. Gilbert probably despised her from the bottom of his heart right now. She would never be able to look him in the eyes again. 

Unless...

Yes, there was one way out. Stupid and even more humiliating than admitting the truth, but possibly likely to make Gilbert hate her a little less.

***

‘Here, drink this,’ Gilbert handed her a glass of whitish liquid. Anne quaffed it, not letting on that she had already done so some hours before, when he was still deep asleep.

‘Thanks,’ she returned the glass, smiling wanly. ‘I feel so awful. Have I made a terrible fool of myself last night? I don’t remember anything after the first few drinks.’

Gilbert felt all the blood draining from his face. He had been a bigger douchebag than he had expected. He had made out with her while she was literally rendered half-conscious by alcohol.

‘Not very,’ he heard himself say, his mouth somehow forming a smile. ‘Well, maybe a little. But everyone else was so drunk they probably won’t remember anything either, so no worries.’

‘What about you?’ she asked before she could stop herself, somehow managing to preserve an expression of indifferent curiosity.

Gilbert looked away from her face, sick with mortification.

‘Well, mostly it’s a blur,’ he choked out. 

Two hours later, they were on board the train carrying them back to Avonlea.


	4. i’ll prove it // i’m just as grown up as you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a n g s t y & short
> 
> that's all this chapter is hahaa

Having more or less slept all through Monday, Anne got up on Tuesday morning with a very definite sense of purpose, namely that she had to go return Gilbert’s ring. It might be Mary’s property, but when Anne remembered the look in Gilbert’s eyes as he slipped it onto her finger she felt that the sooner she got rid of it the better.

On the way back from Halifax they had seemingly behaved towards each other as usual, but there was an unmistakable note of restraint in the way Gilbert treated her which corroborated Anne's theory that he remembered their kiss very well and had only implied he didn’t in order not to make her feel even more like a slut than she already did. Well, if things were to get unpleasant and uncomfortable between them now it was through no one’s fault but her own.

With a heavy heart, she rang the bell of Gilbert’s house. 

‘Hello, Anne!’ The door was opened by Mary, dressed in a flour-covered apron. ‘Come on in, I’ve just made some delicious apple pie.’

Anne’s hopes that Gilbert might not be in were dashed as soon as she crossed the threshold of the kitchen. He was seated at the table, intent on writing something in a notebook lying in front of him. 

‘Hi, Gil,’ Anne said with forced cheerfulness. 

Gilbert lifted his head and gave her a short greeting nod, accompanied by a somewhat distracted smile. Then he returned to his writing.

‘Sit down, Anne,’ Mary said, placing a slice of apple pie in front of the chair opposite to that occupied by Gilbert. ‘I really want your opinion on this pie. I’ve changed the recipe a little, and I'm still unsure if it was for the better. And, of course, Gilbert and Bash would never dare say anything derogatory about my cooking.’

‘That’s because neither of us is a liar,’ put in Gilbert, lifting his head. His eyes met Anne’s and for some reason he gulped, blinking rapidly and looking quickly back down at his writing. 

Anne tasted the pie. ‘Mmm, it’s delicious, Mary,’ she said, taking another bite.

Mary beamed at her. ‘Well, I believe you, Anne. Y o u are not the kind of person who would lie just to remain in somebody’s good graces.’

At these words, Anne felt a lump form in her throat, making it diffucult for her to force the pie down and past it. 

Mary had disappeared into the pantry, leaving Anne and Gilbert momentarily alone. He never stopped writing, and she kept her eyes fixed absent-mindedly on his hands. Suddenly, she became aware of how strong his hands looked and how beautifully shaped they were at the same time – the hands of a born surgeon, with long, sensitive fingers. Then she remembered the way and places in which those fingers had been touching her, and she involuntarily looked up at Gilbert’s face. He lifted his gaze at the same moment, and as their eyes met Anne felt a wave of heat wash over her body.

‘And how was the party?’ asked Mary, stepping energetically back into the kitchen and beginning to potter about the counter. 

Anne’s eyes, still locked with Gilbert's, widened a little, and then she tore her gaze away and turned towards Mary. 

‘It was all right,’ she replied in what she hoped was a neutral tone. ‘I kind of wish I hadn’t gone, though.’

Gilbert slammed his notebook closed and, pushing his chair back with a screech, got up rather abruptly. 

‘I’ll go see if Bash is getting on all right,' he said, giving Anne a wry goodbye smile to which she wasn’t in time to respond.

‘What on earth has bitten that boy?’ asked Mary impatiently as soon as the front door had closed behind him. ‘He’s been insufferable ever since he came back on Sunday. Have you two quarrelled, Anne?’

‘No. No, we haven’t. Maybe he's just tired.’

Mary frowned doubtfully, pursing up her lips. 

With a sigh, Anne got up as well. She had meant to return the ring to Gilbert in private, but now she saw that her best course would be to just get it over with as quickly and directly as possible and clear out of here before Gilbert came back and she had to endure being treated by him in that dreadful perfunctory way again.

Taking the little black box out of her pocket, she stepped up to where Mary stood leaning against the counter. ‘Here’s your ring, Mary. I don’t know how Gilbert talked you into lending it, but—‘

‘What do you mean, my ring?’ Mary stared with furrowed eyebrows at the box Anne was holding out to her. She took it in her hands and opened it. ‘This isn’t mine.’

‘Wha-what?’ stuttered Anne, automatically grasping the box Mary returned to her. 

‘I’ve never seen this ring before, Anne. It doesn’t belong to me.’

‘Oh,’ said Anne in the tone of a sleepwalker. ‘Oh. Okay. I’ll see you, Mary. Thanks for the pie. It was delicious.’ With that, she was in the hall and out of the front door in a flash.

***

Anne directed her steps to a spot at the back of Gilbert’s backyard where they had spent long hours studying or talking or simply sitting together in comfortable, companionable silence. She was sure that looking for Bash had simply been a trumped-up excuse, and that this was where Gilbert had really gone.

Sure enough, he had. He was sitting with his back against a tree, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes fixed in front of him, his face immovable. He never saw Anne until, without a word, she threw the box down into his lap. Then he lifted his head up with a jerk, as though startled out of a trance.

‘Here’s your ring,’ Anne said, looking at the bark over his head. ‘I’ve tried giving it back to Mary, but apparently she’s never seen it before.’

With that, she turned to go. She simply did not have the energy to argue with Gilbert right now. All she wanted was to be able to go back in time to last Friday and undo everything that had happened since.

Before she had taken three steps, Gilbert’s fingers closed around her wrist. 

‘Anne, I’m sorry. I admit I’ve lied to you. But you would never have agreed to wear it if I had told you—‘ 

Anne whirled round to face him, jerking herself free from his grasp. His expression was full of reserve, and this hurt Anne more than any amount of anger or resentment could have. Gilbert had never, ever felt the need to be on his guard around her before. 

‘Listen, Gil,’ she said resignedly, looking him straight in the eye. ‘I don’t care whether you bought this ring or stole it or found it in a ditch. I don’t even feel like I have the right to be angry with you for lying it was Mary's, because after all it was me who came up with the idea of that crazy pretence. So let’s just agree it’s all the fault of my incurable stupidity and move on.’

‘It isn’t your fault, Anne,’ Gilbert replied quietly, his eyes scanning her face. 

The anxious look that was stealing over his features now made Anne feel even worse. The last thing she wanted was for Gilbert to pity her. Biting her lip and shutting her eyes for a moment to calm herself, she replied,

‘Gilbert, I honestly don’t want to discuss this anymore. Can you please act like the perfect gentleman you have the reputation of being and just accept that fact? Let it go. Let’s just agree we're both going to let it all go. I’ll see you.’ 

She stretched her lips in a miserable imitation of a smile and, before Gilbert had time to reply, turned on her heel and marched off, every step that took her away from him feeling like a painful drag.


	5. i'm acting like i don't see every ribbon you've used to tie yourself to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana tries to make Anne see sense.   
> With little success.
> 
> (not much happens here really, but i promise in the next chapter shit's about to get serious :D)

Gilbert tried hard not to let any perceptible difference appear in his attitude towards Anne; needless to say, he did not succeed. He simply couldn’t forget the way her soft, smooth body had felt beneath his fingers, couldn’t stop hearing the needy voice in which she had said his name again and again as he kissed and touched her in the dark. 

To be honest, he didn’t even wish to be able to forget. And that made him feel he was utterly unworthy of continuing to be her friend.

It was as though he was trapped in some grotesque nightmare. 

Perhaps he ought to confess everything to Anne, and then beg for forgiveness. However, he couldn’t imagine her reacting to the news that he had taken advantage of her drunken state in any other way than with disgust and most probably hatred. 

And he knew he wouldn’t be able to take that.

***

On Friday, a week after he and Anne had set out for Halifax, Gilbert ran into her and Diana in front of the big grocery store on Avonlea’s main street. 

‘Hello, Gilbert!’ Diana dimpled into her prettiest smile, while Anne stood looking on dumbly, her hands folded across her chest. 

‘Hi, Diana,’ Gilbert returned Diana’s salutation with a grin, and then turned to Anne. ‘Hi, Anne.’

Anne opened her mouth to reply, but, at that very moment, her phone started to ring. Taking it out of her bag, she moved a few steps away from the other two to answer it.

Immediately, Diana took a step closer to Gilbert and asked quietly in her most no-nonsense kind of voice,

‘Gil, did something happen to Anne? I mean, during that party? She’s been more miserable than I’d ever seen her before since you two came back from Halifax. I knew it was a bad idea for her to go there in the first place, but she’s so stubborn. And when I ask her about it she immediately changes the subject. So, if you know about anything, please tell me.’

Both Diana’s words and the concern visible in her eyes made the feeling of guilt settled in the pit of Gilbert’s stomach intensify hundredfold. ‘That’s – that’s because she doesn’t remember anything,’ he stuttered, sticking his hands into his pockets and clenching them into fists.

Diana’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Doesn’t remember – you mean she was t h a t drunk? Anne never drinks!’

‘And that’s why a relatively few drinks were enough to completely do her in,’ Gilbert replied with a wan smile.

‘But – but nothing happened to her? I mean, no one... took advantage of her in any way? You kept an eye on her all through the night?’

‘No. I mean yes, I did,’ Gilbert replied, wondering why he wasn’t struck dead by a retributive lightning then and there. Diana’s eyes as she looked at him were so honest and devoid of suspicion.

‘Well, then I have no idea what—’

‘Diana, I have to hurry home.’ Anne was back by their side, an impatient frown on her face. ‘It’s Marilla. She says she’s got to go help Mrs. Lynde with something or other, and there’s to be some kind very important official letter delivered by post today, and someone’s got to be home to sign the receipt.’

‘All right, I’ll go with you then. Bye Gil,’ Diana’s dimples appeared again. ‘Oh, I’ve almost forgotten! My parents and Minnie May are away for the weekend visiting aunt Josephine, and so I’ve thought it’s the perfect opportunity to throw a little midsummer celebration party. On Saturday. I mean, tomorrow. You’ll come, won’t you? Anne, wait!’ 

Without waiting for Gilbert’s reply, Diana hurried after Anne, who was already well on her way down the street.

***

‘Anne, I there’s something I want to talk to you about. I think it might make you feel a little better.’

‘What do you mean, better? I’m not aware that I’ve not been feeling well,’ Anne answered in a would-be dismissive voice, turning her back on Diana and busying herself about the topmost drawer of her bureau. 

‘You’ve been perfectly wretched ever since you came back from that stupid party. And I know why. Gilbert told me.’

‘He did what?’ Anne asked shrilly, shutting the drawer with a slam and whirling round to face the other girl. 

‘He told me what it is that’s making you so miserable,’ replied Diana slowly, a little startled by Anne’s vehemence. ‘Anne, do come here and sit down,’ she added, patting the spot right next to where she herself was seated on Anne’s bed. ‘You’re looking as though you might faint.’

‘Does that surprise you?’ asked Anne a little hysterically. ‘Wouldn’t you be mortally ashamed of yourself in my place?’

‘Well, getting dead drunk isn’t anything to boast about, but, after all, it may happen to anyone, and—‘

‘Yes,’ Anne said, dropping down onto the bed and hiding her face in her hands. ‘But it doesn’t make everyone make out with their best friend with the consequence that our relationship is now irreparably destroyed.’

‘You’ve made out with Gilbert?’ Diana repeated, sounding faintly amused rather than surprised.

‘You’ve just said he’d told you about it himself!’ Anne looked up sharply. ‘Well, you certainly don’t seem too surprised.’

‘What is there to be surprised about? I’ve been expecting this to happen for the past few—‘ The murderous glance Anne shot at her made Diana pause and shake her head. ‘All Gilbert told me was that you got so drunk you don’t remember anything. But,’ her eyes widened in sudden realisation, ‘you do remember. Anne, why did you lie to him?’

‘Why?’ screeched Anne. ‘Why? Diana, I literally forced him to make out with me. I was all over him. I... I encouraged him to go on,’ she was speaking more quietly now, blushing furiously. ‘He obviously thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed slut. It’s been clear to me ever since Saturday that he’s disgusted by my behaviour.’

Diana couldn’t help the small incredulous snigger that escaped her at that. ‘Anne, can you even hear yourself? I swear that sometimes you are dumber than seventh grade Moody Spurgeon. Listen,’ she took Anne’s hands in hers and spoke emphatically, unhesitatingly. ‘First of all, it’s not like it was all just y o u r doing. It takes two to make out. And secondly, I don’t know where the idea of Gilbert’s being disgusted by you comes from, but I’ve never heard anything more absurd in my life.’

‘But I started it,’ insisted Anne miserably. 

‘Of course you did. Seven years ago, when you smashed his head with that giant hardback dictionary.’

‘Don’t joke, Diana,’ Anne whined, putting her face back in her hands. ‘We can probably never go back to being friends now.’ She looked up at Diana again, frowning unhappily. ‘What exactly did he even tell you?’

‘That you’d got really drunk and remember nothing, but that he’d kept an eye on you all through the night and you got into no real trouble.’

‘Did he seem angry? Or annoyed?’

Diana snorted impatiently. ‘He seemed about just as miserable as you are right now. Anne, you two really need to talk. You need to tell him you remember. I’m sure you can work it all out.’ 

‘That is out of the question!’ Anne’s voice once again became more vehement. ‘That is so absolutely out of the question.’

‘Anne, you can’t keep running away from your feelings forever. Sooner or later, you and Gilbert will have to admit—‘

‘No!’ Anne put her hand across Diana’s mouth. ‘Diana, you can’t talk as though you knew how— how certain people really feel about other people. End of subject. If you ever mention the events of that regrettable night in my presence again, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

‘And what if, somehow or other, Gilbert accidentally gets to know that you’ve lied about not remembering anything? That’s when you’ll be in real trouble. T h e n he will have a reason to be angry with you for real.’ 

‘Of course he won’t get to know! There are only two people who know, and neither of them is going to ever let on. Understood?’

‘Yes.’ Diana rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘You’re so stupid, Anne. You are both of you such incredible fools. Just perfect for each other.’

Anne pretended not to hear. There was no earthly way Diana was right about any of this.


	6. in my head I do everything right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> w e l l  
> if you don't like angst this isn't a story for you, that's for sure :D

‘Anne, wait!’ 

Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, Anne looked on as Gilbert strode towards her. He was wearing dark jeans and a light-blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and Anne’s first thought was that it was honestly absurd how very handsome he looked. For some reason, this really annoyed her.

‘You might want to look around for some more amusing company,’ she said by way of hello. ‘I’ve got a terrible headache, and I’m only coming because Diana insisted so much.’

Gilbert seemed unruffled by her terseness. ‘We’re not really party people, are we?’ he said, sending her a crooked sideways smile. ‘Listen, Anne, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about this any more, but there’s one thing I have to say. I’ve really missed you these past couple of days. I don’t want us to go on like this. Couldn’t we just forgive and forget?’

The genuine contrition Anne heard in his voice made her relent almost against her will, and she stopped, looking up at him through narrowed eyes. Gradually, a small smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards.

‘Truce?’ she proposed, extending her hand towards him.

Gilbert grinned. ‘Truce.’ He shook her hand quickly, lightly, anxious not to touch her longer than was necessary. Their encounter of yesterday, when Anne wouldn’t even look him straight in the face, convinced him he’d rather suffer any amount of longing and guilt in her company as ‘only’ a friend than have her ignore and avoid him.

They resumed walking, the atmosphere between them, though still far from what it used to be, palpably less strained. By the time they had reached Diana’s house, they were both feeling that perhaps the party wouldn’t be such unbearable torture after all.

***

‘Anne, I’ve been hearing the most unbelievable gossip about you,’ Josie Pye perched on the arm of the sofa standing in a secluded corner of Diana’s big living room on which Anne had strategically placed herself.

‘Really?’ asked Anne without much interest, opening another can of coke. 

‘From my cousin in Halifax,’ went on Josie with spurious innocence.

Anne spluttered. ‘Halifax?’

‘Halifax?’ Gilbert appeared at their side, and stood regarding Josie with a frown of annoyance which he was at no pains to hide. ‘What about Halifax?

‘Hi, Gilbert,’ chirped Josie, her expression getting even more sickly sweet. ‘I was just telling Anne that the most unbelievable piece of news has reached me from Halifax. I’ve got a cousin there, you know.’

‘You’ve got an astonishing number of cousins, Josie,’ said Gilbert jeeringly, sitting down next to Anne, who was fidgeting nervously. 

Josie’s eyes glinted maliciously. ‘Actually, my news concerns you as well, Gilbert Blythe. And I’m not sure that you’ll still be so very pleased with yourself when you hear it. Well then, apparently you and Anne are engaged. And this is information spread by Anne herself. Do you still think her so perfect now? Are you happy that your name is connected in such a way with that of a mentally deranged, dirty orphan?’

‘How dare you—‘ began Anne vehemently, attempting to get up, but prevented from doing so by a decisive pull of Gilbert’s hand. She turned to him impatiently, intending to tell him to let go, but the expression of his face rendered her speechless. She had never seen him look so angry before.

‘It’s a pity y o u ’ r e not an orphan, Josie,’ he remarked in an ominously calm voice. ‘Perhaps then you would have actually been taught to behave like an averagely decent human being.’

‘Remember I’ve warned you, Gilbert. You’ll soon come to regret getting involved with trash like her.’

‘Get out of my sight, Josie,’ Gilbert shot back through gritted teeth. 

With a contemptuous snort, Josie got up and left, swaggering undauntedly.

Gilbert closed his eyes and fell back against the sofa, exhaling slowly through his nose. 

‘I’m sorry, Gil,’ said Anne embarrassedly. ‘It seems we’ll never be able to get away from the consequences of that stupid lie. I’m sorry I've ever come up with it.’

‘No, Anne, it’s just that—‘

‘Anne!’ Diana, who, up until now, had been too busy flirting with Jerry to talk to either Anne or Gilbert, skipped gleefully up to them. ‘Are you guys all right?’ she asked, frowning suspiciously as she looked from Anne’s pale face to Gilbert’s clenched jaw. 

‘Sure,’ replied Anne quickly, getting up. ‘You look simply lovely, Diana. Just like a fairy queen.’

Diana dimpled graciously. ‘Thanks. You look very pretty yourself, Anne. It’s a pity, though, that you haven’t put on that silver dress you bought for the Halifax party. I’ve wanted to see you in it so much.’

‘It is much too formal for today, and you’ll see me in it soon anyway, on the picture. After we had taken it, Derrick said he would develop it and send a copy to everyone,’ replied Anne, shrugging her shoulders. ‘Ouch! Gilbert, what on earth—‘ she squeaked, for Gilbert had sprung up from the sofa abruptly, catching Anne’s wrist in a fierce grip and turning her round to face him. 

His face was a pale, immovable mask, and his eyes bore into hers with such intensity that she had to turn her gaze away. 

‘What did you just say?’ he asked, his voice so low she could barely hear him.

‘What—‘ Anne frowned in confusion, and then felt her stomach drop painfully as she realised the point of his question. ‘Oh my God, Gilbert, I promise I can explain—‘

Gilbert cut her off with a laugh so bitter it made her wince. ‘Don’t bother, Anne,’ he said, dropping her wrist, his eyes full of such genuine resentment that she felt tears of mortification well up in her throat. ‘I don’t think I would believe you anyway.’

With that, he turned away and walked quickly out of the room.

‘Anne, what was that supposed to mean?’ asked Diana, staring after him with furrowed eyebrows.

Anne couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. ‘He knows I remember, Diana. The picture I’ve just mentioned, that happened right after—after we kissed. So he knows I remember. You were right, Diana. He knows, he knows and he hates me,’ she repeated helplessly, sinking back down onto the sofa.

Diana sighed, sitting down next to Anne and putting her arm around her shoulders. ‘Anne, forget about what I said. Just go after him and try to explain. Tell him the truth. Tell him you were afraid. After all, it’s Gilbert we’re talking about. He’ll understand.’

‘Do you really think so?’ asked Anne, sniffing.

‘Yes,’ replied Diana with more conviction than she really felt. 

‘All right then,’ Anne got up, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her palms. 

‘Maybe go wash your face with cold water first,’ suggested Diana, smiling faintly. ‘Courage, Anne. You’ll see it’ll all be for the best in the end.’

Anne nodded, unconvinced.

***

It was already almost completely dark outside when Anne entered the backyard of the Barrys’ house. She had searched for Gilbert everywhere else and felt practically convinced he had simply gone home, but was unwilling to give up looking for him just yet. Suddenly, she bumped into something broad and hard.

To her horror, that something was Billy Andrews’s chest.

Even worse, it was an obviously drunk Billy Andrews’s chest.

‘Hello, lovely,’ he drawled, leering lasciviously down at her.

‘Leave me alone, Billy,’ Anne scoffed, trying to turn back towards the house. 

He grabbed her violently by the arm and pinned her against the wall. ‘Don’t get rude with me, you little orphan slut,’ he blurted out. His face was so close to hers she could feel his foul breath on her face. 

‘Leave me alone! Get your hands off me, Billy! Let me go!’ she screamed wildly, trying desperately to flinch away. His mouth was almost on hers, and she felt sure she would die of disgust if he actually kissed her.

Then, just when it seemed nothing could prevent it from happening, Billy’s hulking body was pulled away from her so violently she tottered down onto the ground. 

‘I – told you – not to – go – near her – ever – again!’ 

Anne scrambled to her feet and leapt up to Gilbert, who was kneeling over Billy’s grovelling form, spitting out the words in a voice choked with rage and punching him again and again. She gripped his arm and tugged at it with all her might. ‘Gilbert, stop it! That’s enough! I said, stop it! You’ll kill him!’

Gilbert straightened up and whirled round to face her, his features contorted with fury. Anne instinctively took a step back. Meanwhile, Billy had managed to sit up, cradling his face in his hands. 

‘You’ve broken my nose, you moron!’ he yelped. ‘You’ll pay for this, you and your slutty little girlfriend! What, are you afraid I might find out she’s not a good enough fuck to justify your running after her like a lost puppy all the time?’

Anne clutched onto Gilbert’s arm again with both her hands, just in time to prevent him from attacking Billy again. 

‘Gilbert, that’s enough!’ She was crying hard now, crying with both fright and humiliation. ‘Come on. I need you to walk me home. Come on, Gilbert. Gilbert, please.’

Gilbert inhaled deeply, slowly, and then, without another look at Anne, freed himself from her grasp and, closing his fingers tightly around her elbow, practically pushed her out of the backyard. 

They went out the side way in order to avoid the lighted-up front of the house. As soon as they were out in the street, Anne, choking on sobs and feeling sore all over her body, whimpered quietly,

‘Gilbert, let go. It hurts.’

Gilbert withdrew his fingers so suddenly Anne almost stumbled, and continued to walk without sparing her a look. She righted herself quickly and dragged her feet forward, trying to keep up with his long strides.

‘Gilbert, please talk to me,’ she pleaded, the despair and shame with which she was overpowered making her throw pride to the winds. ‘I’m truly so sorry I’ve lied to you. But I had to. I simply couldn’t—‘

‘You simply couldn’t what, Anne?’ he snapped, turning on her with a scowl. ‘You couldn’t what? Couldn’t be honest with me for one damn time in your life?’

‘I’m – I’m always honest with you, Gil, it’s just that I thought—‘

‘And what about what I thought?’ Gilbert interrupted in a voice so cold and filled with resentment Anne shivered. ‘Have you ever stopped to consider that? Or have you actually managed to delude yourself into believing that no one except Anne Shirley feels or thinks anything? There is two of us in this fucked-up relationship, right? Or rather,’ he added with cruel deliberation, ‘there w e r e two of us in this relationship. Because honestly, I don’t think there’s anything for us to talk about anymore. So save your breath, Anne. Use it to make up another story in which everyone else’s feelings come second to your own. Just don’t force me to play along with it any more.’

‘Gilbert—‘ Anne tried to catch hold of his hand and, to her utter dismay, he shook her fingers off.

‘Here we are,’ he said indifferently, pointing to where Green Gables loomed silent and dark in front of them and keeping his gaze resolutely averted. 

Anne knew it was time to give up. ‘I’m sorry, Gil,’ she whispered. 

Not a muscle in his face moved.

Defeated, Anne walked up to the front door of the house and went in. 

As soon as she did, Gilbert turned on his heel and walked back down the street, his back hunched up, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.


	7. help // I lost myself again // but I remember you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's 8 a.m. here in Central Europe & that is a very wierd hour at which to post fanfiction,  
> but I'm probably going to be busy the rest of the day, so. . . enjoy :D

On the Monday following Diana’s party, Gilbert went away to stay in Charlottetown. He was provided with an excellent excuse for doing so by Dr Ward, who had called to ask whether Gilbert wouldn’t like to help at the hospital on a more frequent basis for the next two or three weeks, some of the regular staff being away on holidays.

The only person in Avonlea with whom he had any contact was Bash, whom Gilbert wrote a message at the end of each day to the effect that he was ‘fine’. However, on the second Friday of his stay in Charlottetown, Bash actually called him.

‘Yes?’ Gilbert made no attempts at hiding his reluctance to talk. 

‘Nice to hear you too, Blythe,’ Sebastian’s assured voice boomed into his ear. ‘You’ve got to come down here for the weekend. We’ve had a little emergency.’

‘What? What’s happened?’ Gilbert asked, instantly on the alert.

‘Easy,’ chuckled Bash. ‘ It’s just that there’s some papers come from the bank, and you have to sign them, and then you can take them back with you to Charlottetown on Monday. It would only delay things if I were to send them to you by post, and they look rather urgent.’

‘All right,’ sighed Gilbert resignedly. ‘Is that all?’

‘No, it isn't,' said Bash emphatically. 'Anne-with-an-e has been here, asking about you. She says you’re not answering her calls. That’s the kind of ill-bred behaviour I’d hardly expect from you, Blythe.’

Gilbert was silent a moment. Then, trying to sound indifferent, he asked, ‘Is she all right?’

‘She doesn’t l o o k all right, that’s for sure. She looks more like a ghost than a girl. Take my advice and call her, Blythe. She won’t bite through the phone, will she?’

Gilbert shut his eyes, pressing his fingers to his forehead. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Bash,’ he said eventually, and, without waiting for a reply, hung up.

Then he threw himself down onto the uncomfortable couch and lay staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

***

Shortly after 10 a.m. next morning, Gilbert set off towards Avonlea in his dad’s old car. As he drove along the straight, rather empty road, two ambulances passed him, going full speed in the opposite direction. A little further on, a small cluster of people gathered on the edge of the lane leading into Charlottetown became perceptible. 

As Gilbert neared the scene of the accident and was able to actually see the car that had been involved in it, his heart suddenly gave a terrible lurch.

It was the Cuthbert’s car, with its bonnet smashed rather badly. Opposite to it was an overturned motorcycle.

He was hardly capable of parking the car properly, his hands shook so much. He leapt out of it, without even bothering to close the door, and, on legs that were like jelly, ran up to the little group of onlookers.

‘What’s happened here?’ he asked the first person he could get hold of, a woman of about fifty with a motherly kind of face.

‘It’s those terrible motorbikes!’ she exclaimed, pointing. ‘It went smash right into the car, nobody knows when or how or why. The brat who drove it seems to have escaped with only a broken leg.’

‘And what about the people in the car?’ Gilbert didn’t fully know how he managed to ask the question. He felt like he was going to be sick.

‘Oh, they were ever so much worse, poor dears!’ exclaimed his informant. ‘One of them was almost done in outright, they actually had to resuscitate her. She seems to have rallied, but it’s impossible to tell for how long, isn’t it? The other one was slightly better, but they took her into the ambulance on a stretcher all the same, so she must have been at least unconscious as well.'

‘One of them was red-haired, right? Did you happen to notice which one?’ Gilbert’s nails dug into his palms as he clenched his hands into tight fists.

The good lady looked thoughtful. ‘No, I didn’t notice anything so particular. After they’d taken them out of the car they didn’t let anyone come up close, you know. We just heard what they said, that it was two ladies and that one of them wasn’t breathing. Are you quite all right, my dear?’ she asked solicitously, noticing the ghastly lividness of Gilbert’s face. 

‘Yes,’ Gilbert answered, unconscious of what he was saying. ‘Thank you.’

He went back up to his car and, dropping down onto the seat, hung his head down and took a few deep, steadying breaths. He knew getting into hysterics and causing another accident would not contribute to his getting to Anne’s side as quickly as possible, and therefore he knew he must calm himself.

Anne would be either unconscious or dying when he reached her; Gilbert realised that. 

But he had to be by her side. 

***

Gilbert fairly burst into the emergency waiting room; at the same time, the bathroom door in the wall opposite opened and shut quickly and there, at the other end of the corridor, stood Anne, pale and trembling, her right hand in a sling and a few nasty scratches on her face, but otherwise apparently unhurt.

‘Anne! Oh my God, Anne,’ Gilbert ran up to her, taking her face in his hands, kissing her forehead, trying to brush her fast-flowing tears away with his thumbs, and eventually pulling her into a hug, his hands going up to stoke her hair, his brain reeling with the thought that she was here, alive and apparently well enough to be allowed to walk about alone.

‘Gilbert, my hand,’ Anne said, her voice muffled. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he let her go, but his hands almost automatically went back up to cup her haggard face. ‘Anne, I thought you were – the people who saw the accident said that you—‘ he gulped, unable to finish.

‘I’m fine,’ Anne said, the faint smile that had begun to appear on her face as he looked it up and down in grateful disbelief vanishing before it was really there. ‘But Marilla... Gil, I have no idea what’s happening with her,’ she shut her eyes, wincing. ‘They took her away to the intensive care unit, and no one would tell me anything.’ Anne looked at him miserably. ‘I’m so scared, Gil, I can’t – I can’t lose her – not like this—‘

‘Shhh,’ Gilbert stroked her hair again, putting his arm around her waist and leading her gently to the nearest unoccupied seat. He sat down next to her, taking her healthy hand in both of his, his eyes scanning her face anxiously. ‘Listen, Anne, are you sure you’re all right? Have they checked you for internal damages?’

‘Yes,’ she said indifferently. ‘I don’t even have a concussion, or anything.’

‘What about your arm?’

‘It’s only – only broken.’

‘But what did they say? Did they say it’s a closed fracture?’

‘Yes – I don’t remember, but I think yes.’

‘All right, then,’ Gilbert took a deep breath, looking her straight in the eyes. ‘Then stay here, okay? Don’t leave this corridor. And I’ll go and see what I can get them to tell me about Marilla’s state. I’ll be back here with you as quickly as I can. Anne, I promise it’ll be all right. Just wait here for me. Okay?’

Anne freed her hand from Gilbert’s grasp and, looking away from him and pressing her balled-up fingers to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her sobs, nodded in agreement.

Managing what he hoped was an encouraging smile, Gilbert got up and left her, filled at once with both enormous relief at knowing Anne was safe and comparatively unhurt, and with terrible foreboding as to what news might be awaiting him in the intensive care unit.


	8. sweetheart // bitterheart // now I can't tell you apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where oh where is all this going?  
> honestly, who knows

Marilla’s state was serious, mainly due to severe internal bleeding caused by a ruptured spleen. She had a few broken ribs and suffered from concussion, but after the necessary surgery her life was no longer in direct danger. 

Having elicited from the head surgeon the assertion that the patient was unlikely to regain consciousness before noon the next day, and that there was consequently no point in Anne remaining any longer on the precincts, Gilbert managed to convince the exhausted girl to go back with him for the night to the little one-room flat he was renting.

It was only a few minutes past 6 p.m. when they entered it, but the evens of the day had taken such a toll on Anne’s energies that, having been cajoled into drinking some hot tea and taking a few bites of toast, she started dozing off in her chair.

‘Anne, I think you should just go to sleep,’ said Gilbert, getting up from the table. ‘This couch is all humps and hollows, but if you can find the arrangement that suits your bone structure best you are sure of being tolerably comfortable,’ he joked lamely, and Anne attempted a dim smile. 

‘And where are you going sleep?’ she asked, looking round the small, crowded space.

‘On the floor,’ as usual, Gilbert wanted to add, but this was not the moment for such comments. ‘At least it’s consistently flat, so it’s probably much more comfortable anyway.’

Anne looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything more. Gilbert went into the tiny kitchenette to wash up, and when he came back into the room she was already asleep. He placed his only blanket gently over her curled-up body, and then seated himself in the nearest chair, stretching out his legs. 

He sat listening to the faint sound of Anne’s troubled breathing until he, too, fell asleep.

***

When Gilbert awoke again it was the dead of the night, and the all-enfolding silence was broken only by the heart-wrenching sound of stifled sobbing that reached him from the couch.

‘Anne?’ he whispered and, somehow managing to overcome the stiffness of his limbs, got up and went over to the sofa, putting on the small bedside lamp.

Anne’s face was swollen with crying, and the pillow she lay on was wet with tears. When the light went on she sat up clumsily and gave him an apologetic, wan smile.

‘I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you, Gil. Just give me a few minutes, and then I promise to make no more noise.’

Disregarding her words, Gilbert perched next to her on the edge of the sofa.

‘You should have woken me up and not lay crying all alone in the dark,’ he said, trying to sound like this was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

She made a sound between a scoff and a sniff. ‘As if I wasn’t giving you trouble enough already.’

‘Anne, you’re not—‘ he began vehemently, paused, took a calming breath, and went on, more quietly, ‘Anne, would y o u consider helping m e trouble?’

‘Of course not.’ She fidgeted under the blanket. ‘But that’s different.’

‘No, it’s exactly the same.’ There was something in Gilbert’s voice that made Anne look up but, knowing this was no time for such arguments and wishing to put an end to it, he remarked, ‘It’s only half past three. Do you think you could get back to sleep?’

Anne’s face fell. ‘I – I—‘ Fresh tears appeared in her eyes. ‘Could you just leave this light on?’ she asked somewhat timidly.

‘Sure,’ Gilbert replied, looking on as she settled herself back down on the pillow. 

His heart contracted painfully when he saw how wasted her face looked in the dim light. Impulsively, he crouched down beside the couch, taking Anne’s left hand in one of his.

‘Anne, please don’t torment yourself like this. You know the surgeon said everything is going as well as might be expected.’

Anne didn’t respond, but she didn’t let go of his hand either. Instead, she moved their intertwined fingers closer to her cheek, closing her eyes.

Gilbert settled down on the floor beside her. Objectively speaking, the position he was in was extremely uncomfortable, but somehow he completely failed to notice the fact.

***

As the first rays of the morning light entered the room, Gilbert’s eyes snapped open again. The first thing he knew was that his back hurt like hell from having been twisted into a terribly unnatural position; the second, that he was staring into a pair of rather puffed-up gray eyes. 

Then he realised he had fallen asleep with his legs stretched out on the floor and his head resting on the pillow right next to Anne’s. 

He sat bolt upright, frowning and blinking hard. ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea when—‘

‘No, it’s okay, Gil,’ Anne put in quickly. ‘After all, I didn’t even bother to ask whether you actually had another set of bedclothes, which you obviously don’t,’ she gave him a small smile, sitting up as well, her face flushed and her hair a mess. She stretched out her arms, yawning.

Gilbert only realised he was staring when she caught his eye and gave a start, immediately straightening herself up and smoothing down her hair. 

‘I suppose I must look a fright,’ she said, blushing self-consciously. 

Gilbert shook himself out of his trance, ‘No, I—‘

‘Excuse me,’ Anne got up and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Gilbert dragged a hand over his face in an attempt to collect his thoughts. Marilla’s health: that’s what was of paramount importance right now. That and making sure Anne was spared as much pain and anxiety as possible.

Everything else – all the things which he and Anne had to talk about, all the things he would ultimately have to confront her with – could wait. 

***

Marilla did regain consciousness as predicted; she was extremely weak, but there was no damage to the brain, and when finally ushered out of the room by the officiating nurse Anne slipped down onto the nearest seat and burst into tears of relief.

Gilbert sat beside her silently, waiting until she had had her cry. Finally, she looked up at him with a very teary, but genuine smile. 

‘Thank you, Gil,’ she said in a somewhat faltering but fairly collected tone. ‘I would have gone mad with anxiety long ago if you weren't here.’

‘I told you it was going to be all right.’ Grinning, he brushed away a stray lock of hair sticking to her wet cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Then, rather abruptly, he sprung up. ‘All right, now I’m taking you home. You definitely deserve a long bath and some rest in more humane conditions than those with which you had to put up last night.’

Anne’s face brightened up. ‘I’d love a bath,’ she said, getting up as well. Suddenly, her smile turned into an unhappy frown. ‘Oh no, I forgot about this stupid arm! I won’t even be able to take off my own shirt, to say nothing of—‘ she stopped, reddening.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Gilbert put in quickly, pretending not to notice her embarrassment. ‘When I said home, I meant home to Bash and Mary. You won’t mind Mary helping you, will you?’

‘Gilbert, I’ve already caused you enough trouble—‘

‘Anne,’ he mimicked her peremptory tone, and she couldn’t help smiling. ‘Your staying alone at Green Gables is out of the question. End of subject. That’s how you’d actually cause real trouble, because Mary would be worrying about you so much she’d be certain to turn gray overnight.’

Anne bit her lip. ‘Gilbert, I hope you know you really don’t have to do any of this.‘

Gilbert, who had began walking, pretended not to hear.


	9. instead of calling me out you should be pulling me in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking such a long time to update! hopefully you've not quite forgotten all that went before lol
> 
> I'm editing this chapter half-asleep, so apologies for any mistakes! (as always :D)

The majority of the way from Charlottetown passed in silence. From time to time, Gilbert shot an anxious look at Anne, but she kept her eyes closed, though he knew she wasn’t asleep. 

When he took the rather sharp turning into Avonlea she eventually sat up, and for a moment their eyes met. It was as though, as they entered the familiar environs of their hometown and left the hospital behind, the row of two weeks ago reasserted itself in their minds with a renewed force.

Anne looked away and spoke up in a rather strained voice. ‘Gilbert, I really am not sure that I should intrude upon Bash and Mary—and you,’ she added uneasily. ‘You’ve acted by me better than I deserve already, you’ve been so much help, but I simply have no right to—‘

‘No, Anne, wait,’ Gilbert interrupted, keeping his eyes glued to the road in front of him. ‘Whatever else I might have meant, I never meant it when I said that our relationship exists no longer. You’ve been my best friend for at least the past five years. It would be a pity to let all that time go to waste because of,’ Anne, who kept her gaze fixed on the side of his face visible to her, saw him swallow and clench his jaw, ‘because of one stupid mistake.’

A mistake. So that’s how he saw it. As a mistake which he wished her to forget about so that she wouldn’t imagine that only because he was an insanely good kisser he had actually enjoyed making out with her. Wincing with embarrassment, Anne said,

‘But I’ve lied to you. On purpose.’

‘And I’ve refused to text you back or answer your calls for two weeks. On purpose. So, on a points system, we’re even. Now we can officially stop behaving like two kindergartens.’

‘I’m not behaving like a kindergarten. I’m trying to explain things,’ said Anne a little peevishly.

Gilbert sighed. ‘You have more important things to worry about now, Anne. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me any explanations. I only want you to know that I’m here for you whenever you need me. I’ll always be your friend.’

‘My friend?’ repeated Anne in such a peculiar tone that Gilbert finally did look round at her.

When his eyes locked with hers it was as though they were transported back in time to that dancing floor in Halifax, and something of enormous importance was to be said or done by one of them any second.

Just in the nick of time, Gilbert caught sight of a figure crossing the street a very short distance ahead of their car, and he pulled up sharply with a screech of the brakes. 

The jaywalker turned out to be none other than Billy Andrews. He waved his middle finger at them and yelled something which they were fortunately unable to hear. 

‘I don’t understand why he won’t simply leave me alone,’ said Anne in an exasperated voice. ‘However much I try to keep out of his sight, he finds a way to get at me.’

Gilbert snorted angrily. ‘Is he really stupid enough to still go on pestering you? Good to know.’

Anne looked over at him, and her stomach clenched when she recognised in his face some traces of the white fury of two weeks ago.

‘Gilbert, you shouldn’t take my problems with Billy so much to heart,’ she said tentatively, uncertain how to tackle the subject without mentioning the events of that fateful party. ‘I know that, as my friend,’ she tried hard not to stumble over the word, ‘you mind the nonsense he talks about me, but he’s been doing it forever, and I’m kind of used to it by now.’

‘Used to it, Anne?’ Gilbert gave her an incredulous frown. ‘Would you still say that if I hadn’t been there to drag him away from you that night?’ 

The question incensed Anne’s smouldering annoyance. ‘And what would y o u say if I hadn’t stopped you from doing him some real harm, and most probably getting hurt yourself in the process?’

The car had come to a halt in front of the Blythe-Lacroix house.

Gilbert laughed recklessly, maliciously. ‘Oh, you haven’t stopped me, don’t worry. He’ll answer for whatever he had meant to do to you yet. He’ll wish he had never said one damned word to or about you.’

‘Gilbert, stop being ridiculous!’ Anne was getting so unnerved with his unreasoning anger that she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. ‘If I ever get to hear that anything happened to Billy Andrews, I’ll never, and I mean never, speak to you again!’

‘If I can make sure he never calls you dirty names again, it’s fair enough by me.’

Anne snapped. ‘So what if he does call me dirty names? He’s right. I am a slut. You know that by experience, don’t you? So perhaps just accept the fact you’ve made out with a slut and get over it, instead of getting it out on Billy Andrews!’ 

The face her turned towards her at those words was filled with bewildered terror. ‘Anne, why would you say a thing like that? You can’t honestly believe I’d ever think such a thing about you? For heaven’s sake, Anne, say you don’t.’

Anne, deflating, shook her head slowly, wearily. ‘No. I don’t. But I don’t really want to discuss this. You’ve said yourself it was a mistake.’ She looked at him pleadingly. ‘We were both drunk. It’s true I’ve lied about not remembering, but it’s not like I wasn’t truly messed up when I—‘ she stopped, sighing. ‘It’s like you’ve said. It would be madness to throw five years of friendship away because of something like this. Let’s be adults about this.’

‘Yeah, adults,’ repeated Gilbert dully.

At that moment, the door of the house sprang open, and Sebastian and Mary, all warm, welcoming smiles, appeared on the threshold. 

***

An hour later, Anne, dressed in Mary’s spare pyjamas and her flowery kimono, sat by the table in the cheerful kitchen, doing her best to swallow whatever she could of the exquisite supper. 

‘So, have you two quite made up your little fight?’ asked Bash, looking from Anne to Gilbert. ‘It must have been something really serious to drive Blythe away from you of his own free will, Anne-with-an-e!’

‘It was just a stupid misunderstanding,’ replied Anne before Gilbert had time to react. 

‘Wait, what?’ chuckled Bash. ‘Do you mean the news of your engagement that the Pye girl is so busy spreading about? Did Blythe find out that he had indeed confessed his undying love and proposed to you, rendered loose-tongued by alcohol during that party you went to together?’

Gilbert had finally managed to swallow the big bite of chicken he had inopportunely taken just before Sebastian began his questioning. ‘Bash, one more word, and I swear—‘

‘Could you both stop it?’ asked Mary in a displeased tone. ‘Anne is tired, and now you’re making her uncomfortable as well.’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Anne, getting up. ‘I’ve got a terrible headache, so I might just as well go and lay down for a bit.’

‘I’ve made you a bed in the spare bedroom,’ said Mary. ‘One of us can take you over to Green Gables tomorrow morning and fetch some of the most necessary things.’

‘Sure,’ said Anne.

***

Gilbert’s room was adjacent to the one in which Anne slept, and the partition walls weren’t particularly thick. 

And, to his dismay, recent history repeated itself: he awoke in the small hours and, though it was way less audible than the night before, heard the unmistakable sound of helpless sobbing.

Very quietly, he got out of bed, put on a blazer that hung on a nearby chair, and stepped out into the dark corridor. Holding her door open a crack, he whispered, 

‘Anne? I know you’re not asleep. Can I come in?’

A moment of silence, and then a ‘Yes’.

Anne turned on the bedside lamp and sat up in bed, pulling her blankets up to her chin. She looked annoyed.

‘Gil, I won’t be able to stay here if I can’t take a deeper breath without your barging in to check up on me,’ she said crossly. 

Perching on the edge of the bed, Gilbert gave her a wry smile. ‘Don’t worry about that. Tomorrow I’m going back to Charlottetown anyway.’

‘What? Why?’ Anne asked, her eyes getting wide.

‘My helping Dr Ward wasn’t just a trumped-up excuse,’ he chuckled, and she blushed. ‘I’ve engaged to help him out for at least two more weeks.’

‘I didn’t ever think it was an excuse, for your information,’ Anne shot back tersely. 

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow at her, and she couldn’t help an unwilling smile. 

‘Did you want something?’ she asked, breaking the silence.

‘Want what?’ he asked stupidly.

‘Gil, it’s three a.m. You’d better come up with a good reason for coming in here.’

He blinked. ‘Yeah, I’ve wanted to tell you not to be silly and go back to sleep. You know very well Marilla’s going to be all right. There is no excuse for you to stay up crying your eyes out.’

No response. 

‘Anne, tell me what it is,’ he pleaded, edging a little closer. ‘If you think I’m going to leave tomorrow knowing you’re going to carry on like this every night, you’re wrong. If you’re still upset because – because of what we’ve talked about it the car—’

‘Excuse me? If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who keeps bringing this up, not me!’ she hissed. ‘This may surprise you, but my world doesn’t revolve around some drunken make-out session! So, if you’ll be so good, make up your mind whether you want us to forget about it or talk it out in detail, because I’m getting bloody tired of you hating me one moment and behaving like you’re some errant knight the next! Seriously, Gilbert, grow up!’

With that, she pushed him off the bed and threw herself down onto the pillows, pulling the blankets up to her ears.

Without another word, Gilbert left the room. 

A drunken make-out session. So that’s how she saw it. As something that, given the circumstances, might have happened between any two persons. And she thought he was being childish for thinking it was anything more, especially considering that they were such old friends. 

***

On Monday, Gilbert returned to Charlottetown to resume his shifts at the hospital.

Anne passed the next two weeks in going daily to Charlottetown by bus to visit Marilla, who was rallying, though not quite as quickly as she’d like to. 

On the Monday that marked the beginning of the third week of Anne’s stay with Bash and Mary, the doctor who was in charge of Marilla’s case suggested it might do her good to, instead of returning straight home on her dismissal from hospital, go for at least a short stay in a sanatorium. Though initially reluctant, when Rachel Lynde volunteered to join her, Marilla agreed, and by Wednesday they were on their way.

On the following Friday Anne had her cast taken off, and on Saturday morning, having thanked Mary profusely for taking such good care of her, moved, with a feeling of enormous relief, back to Green Gables.

The first thing she did as she closed the front door behind herself was to send a message to Gilbert. 

‘You can come back now. I’m back at my own house. If you’ve decided you can be friends with me after all, I’ll be glad to see you whenever you’ve got time. Your old chum, Anne.’


	10. so, baby, come light me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God help&forgive me, I've gone and did it
> 
> you guys have brought this on yourselves lmao  
> next time be careful what you wish for, or else before you know it you'll end up with something like THIS again

Gilbert had seen Anne around the hospital many times during those three weeks, but never really to speak to; the few times they had actually passed each other on the corridor she merely smiled an indifferent smile and uttered a colourless ‘hello’.

After he’d got her message, he lay sleepless most of the Friday night trying to decide what he had best do. Anne had as good as given him to understand their kiss meant nothing to her; and yet, he felt he had to confess his feelings for her, however little chance there was that they’d meet with anything but downright rejection.

He slept in rather late next morning, and then spent the better part of the day trying to muster up the courage required to go through with the course of action he’d resolved on. Finally, as the glaring light of midday mellowed into the golden glow of afternoon, he got himself together and set out towards Avonlea.

Towards Anne.

It was nearing six p.m. when, his heart in his throat, Gilbert rang the Green Gables doorbell.

After a short wait, the door was opened, and he found himself confronted by a tall, lean young man with slicked-back blond hair and a supercilious look in his eyes.

‘Yee-es?’ demanded that unexpected apparition as Gilbert stood staring at him in mute bewilderment.

‘Who is it, Roy?’ Quick, light steps approached them, and presently Anne appeared in the doorway. At the sight of Gilbert, her face momentarily lit up. ‘Gil!’ she exclaimed joyously, reaching out her hand and then, upon perceiving his frozen expression, letting it fall back to her side. ‘Come on in!’ she added more soberly, dropping her gaze and moving to the side to let him pass.

‘Am I interrupting anything?’ asked Gilbert in a voice that seemed to him to belong to someone else, it was so cold and steely.

‘What? No!’ Anne’s pale cheeks were flooded with crimson. ‘Don’t be stupid. This is Royal Gardner, Mrs. Lynde’s nephew. Roy, this is Gilbert Blythe, my—‘ she cleared her throat uneasily, ‘my friend.’

‘Your _boy_ friend?’ asked Royal Gardner, raising his eyebrows.

‘No!’ negated Anne quickly, flushing even deeper. ‘Just a friend – an old classmate. Come on in, Gil,’ she added, tugging at Gilbert’s sleeve impatiently and pulling him inside the hall.

‘Well, I think I’ll be leaving,’ said Royal in mincing tones. ‘I’ve got to put down all the ideas you’ve inspired me with, Anne. You’ve been born to be an author’s muse. A few hours in your delicious company, and I feel a new spring of creative life start up within my soul.’ He took both Anne’s hands in his and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. ‘Au revoir, Anne Shirley.’

With that, he sauntered out the door, closing it quietly behind himself.

Anne could feel Gilbert’s eyes burning into her face, and felt strangely unable to meet his gaze. After a minute of excruciating silence, Gilbert asked in a suspiciously calm voice,

‘How does one get to deserve to kiss you goodbye, Anne? I’m just asking out of curiosity, you know. Because, after six years of friendship, you cannot even bring yourself to shake hands with me, while, apparently, this slimy git is allowed to throw himself all over you.’

Anne clenched her teeth and looked up. ‘Did you come here to quarrel?’ she asked sharply.

He snorted sardonically. ‘I came here to interrupt a date, apparently. Apologies. You forgot to mention you were seeing someone in that message you’ve sent me.’

‘You are the most intolerable person I know, Gilbert Blythe,’ said Anne, folding her arms belligerently. ‘I don’t really date people I’ve only known a day. I’m not quite _that_ easy.’

‘Jesus Christ, Anne!’ Gilbert burst out, closing the distance between them in two abrupt steps. Anne tried to move away, but her back hit the wall, and she ended up trapped between it and Gilbert. ‘What is your point? Do you take some kind of sick pleasure in tormenting me with these kind of remarks?’ he asked sharply, his hands going up to cup her face.

Anne wanted very much to be able to push him away or maybe pull him closer, but it seemed to her that her limbs have disconnected themselves from her brain, and all she could do was stand there, looking unblinkingly up into Gilbert’s blazing eyes.

Her face is so small, thought Gilbert. She seemed so fragile as he stood towering above her. It suddenly occurred to him it was unfair to trap her like this and force her to listen to his unasked-for confessions. Wouldn’t it be better to say that he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it, and then let her go?

But then he remembered, like he had done a million times since that fateful night, they way she had felt and sounded as he touched and kissed her in the dark, and he felt an inrush of pure, unquenchable want for her settle in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, with great deliberation, he said,

‘Let’s get this clear once and for all, Anne: I don’t think you’re a slut. I don’t think you’re easy. I think you’re the most headstrong, infuriating person I know. And also, I love you.’

With that, he bent down, kissing her with such suddenness and urgency she was unable to do anything but whimper quietly in protest against his lips.

The sound sobered Gilbert up, and he forced himself to break away. Anne’s frightened, bewildered expression made his heart contract painfully. What had he been thinking?

‘Well, at least now you know,’ he said hoarsely, giving her a wry smile and taking a step back. ‘I’m sorry, Anne. I don’t think I can be friends with you. I thought I could, but—,’ he gulped, and looked away from her frozen, wide-eyed face. ‘It’s just not enough. Not anymore. I hope you can forgive me someday.’

Defeated and resigned, he turned towards the door. But, just as he was reaching for the handle, a slender, cold palm clutched at his other hand. Gilbert stood still, his heart beating widely.

‘Gil.’ Anne’s voice was very quiet. She tightened her hold on his hand, and he turned slowly round to face her.

Looking up at him with eyes that seemed to glow in the half-darkness of the unlit hall, she bit her trembling lip. ‘So that kiss wasn’t a mistake?’

He let out a mirthless laugh, and Anne winced. ‘A mistake? Yes, it was a mistake – I should have kissed you much sooner, made it special, and not wait like a coward until circumstances made it easier for me. It was contemptible.’

‘Contemptible?’ Anne fastened on the one negative word with the persistence of a maniac.

Gilbert shut his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Yes, Anne, contemptible. My behaviour was contemptible. But the fact that you’re braver than I am is hardly news, so—‘

‘I’m not,’ she interrupted, and there was something in her voice that made Gilbert open his eyes. Anne was pale, but she held his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I’m not brave. I’ve lied to you because I was afraid, I—‘ She looked away. ‘I’ve actually been lying to you for a long time now. Lying to myself. All because I was afraid.’

‘You don’t have be afraid of me, Anne,’ Gilbert put in, frowning. ‘I swear I’ll never hurt you.’

‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she raised eyes back up to his. ‘I’m afraid of losing you. If—if this should not work out, if we should fall out and become strangers to each other—’ A pleading note entered her voice. ‘I couldn’t stand that, Gil. I love you too much.’

Gilbert’s eyes widened in half-incredulous, half-joyful bewilderment. He took her other hand in his, pulling her closer. ‘Say that again,’ he breathed, his eyes scanning her face frantically.

Anne blinked away the tears that were obliterating her vision. ‘I love you, Gil. Of course I do,’ she gave him a miserable smile. ‘But that doesn’t change anything, it’s—‘

He let go of her hands, reaching up to cup her face once again. ‘It changes everything, Anne. Everything. If you think I could possibly let you go _now_ , you are even more silly than I supposed.’

Anne started to utter an indignant exclamation, but was silenced by Gilbert’s lips. This time he kissed her more gently, giving her time to respond, and, almost against her will, she did. Pushing herself up on tiptoe, she tangled her hands in his hair, trying to gain better access to his lips, which were working with increasing passion against her own.

He backed her against the wall, and it was all so very much like the night of the Halifax party that, with whatever small portion of clear sense he still got left, Gilbert forced himself to break away from Anne’s lips and, resting his forehead against hers, said,

‘Anne, we are made for each other. You know that as well as I do. There could never be anyone else for me but you. But I won’t take this any further if you tell me you need more time. We don’t have to rush things.’

The lust and desperation which with his voice was filled belied every one of those words, but Anne knew that he meant what he said. She knew that if she said she wasn’t ready, he’d say goodbye and come back the next day to talk things through, to explain. She knew him, and she knew that his self-control was equal to anything.

But she also knew she didn’t want any more explanations right now. She just wanted Gilbert. She wanted to touch him, taste him, feel his body against hers.

So, letting out a shuddering breath, she replied, ‘I love you, Gil. I want to be with you.’

That was enough. He kissed her again, running the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth to him, and when their tongues met he felt her shiver.

‘Wrap your legs around me like you did that night, Anne,’ he breathed against her cheek, lying a trail of kisses down her neck.

She complied, and he put his hands on her waist, gripping it tight. He found a small pulse point in the dip between her collarbones and sucked on it, making her gasp.

‘Gil,’ she brought his face back up to hers, and her eyes were larger and more luminous than he’d ever seen them before. ‘Gil, touch me. Please. I’ve been dreaming about it since—’

He crushed his lips against hers, her words and the tone in which she uttered them making him feel he was going to go mad with desire. Keeping his left arm wrapped securely around her waist, he slid his right palm down to where the rim of her sundress exposed her bare thigh.

Anne’s skin was cool to his touch, cool and unbelievably smooth. His heart pounding in his chest, Gilbert’s trembling hand travelled further up, until it reached her lacy knickers. He just brushed the tips of his fingers over her centre, and found that the fabric covering it was soaked through with her juices. He pressed his thumb delicately against the wet spot, and Anne whimpered, thrusting her hips forward with a quick, sudden motion.

‘Anne,’ he panted against her lips. He was so hard now it seemed impossible to him he could possibly last long enough to love her they way he ought to, slow and tender. ‘Anne, I don’t think I can—‘

‘Shh,’ she pressed a small kiss to his lips, and then slid down onto the floor. Hooking her fingers through his, she led him up the stairs and into her bedroom. There, she spun round to face him and wound her arms around his neck.

The eyes with which she looked into his were blurry with lust, and he had to physically keep himself from tearing the flimsy dress she was wearing off of her so that there would be no more unnecessary boundaries between his body and hers.

‘Gil,’ she whispered, drawing herself flush against him. ‘I don’t care if it’s not perfect. I want it to be now, and I want it to be you. That’s all I ask.’

He clenched his jaw, trying to somehow cool his racing mind enough to form a coherent phrase. ‘Anne, are you sure? The last thing I want is that you should come to regret this tomorrow.’

She took a few steps back towards where her bed stood against the wall, and he followed, his eyes never leaving hers.

‘I’m sure, Gil,’ she said, her fingers straying to the topmost buttons of his shirt and beginning to undo them. ‘Don’t worry about anything. We'll have our whole life to get this right. Tonight, I just want to be with you.’

Suddenly, with what was presumably his last lurid brain cell, Gilbert woke up to the fact that he had not expected things to take _this_ turn, and that, consequently, he was quite literally unprepared.

‘Anne,’ he said in a rugged voice, catching at her wrists to still her restless hands. ‘What about protection-- I don't--’

To his utter confusion, Anne let out a small giggle. ‘Don’t worry about that. I’ve been on the pill for some time now. You know, irregular cycles and all that.’

The relief that came over him at those words – the fact that they wouldn’t have to stop _now_ because of such a small, but nonetheless insurmountable obstacle – made Gilbert momentarily blind to anything but his overwhelming desire for the girl who stood, trembling, in front of him and, with a quick, reckless movement, he reached to the zipper at the back of her dress and undid it, backing her a few more steps towards the bed.

She shrugged the thin straps off her shoulders, and, the dress slipping onto the floor with a quiet rustle, stood before him in just her underwear. He drank in the sight of her milky-white, freckle-dusted skin, his brain almost unable to keep up with his eyes.

‘Gil, you’re making me nervous,’ Anne laughed self-consciously, her arms going up automatically to fold themselves across her chest.

This protective gesture made Gilbert snap out of his trance, and, drawing her hands away from her body, he pushed her gently back onto the bed, hovering above her with his knee between her thighs.

‘I love you so much, Anne,’ he breathed, laying a trail of kisses down between her breasts and to her soft, quivering stomach. He was almost unable to grasp the fact that he, Gilbert Blythe, was allowed to touch Anne Shirley like this.

Anne moved uneasily beneath him, grasping his arms and pulling herself up, so that she was able to shift to a kneeling position. Gilbert made a move to kiss her again, but she stopped him by hooking her fingers under his belt.

‘Take these off, Gil,’ she said breathily, giving him a lingering kiss on the lips. ‘I don’t feel like I can wait much longer.’

Gilbert’s fingers were by now trembling with anticipation so much that he was barely able to undo the zipper. Eventually, however, he managed to chuck his trousers onto the floor, and the next moment was keeling opposite Anne on the bed, his hands on her back and her lips on his throat.

His fingers fumbled awkwardly with the hooks of her bra, and, with an impatient murmur against his skin, she undid it herself. Her small, shapely breasts were heaving with her rapid breathing, and she looked so stunning Gilbert wondered what he could possibly have done in his previous existence to deserve to live through this moment.

‘You’re so beautiful, Anne,’ he said huskily, his eyes scorching. He reached out and, cupping her breasts, stroke the nipples lightly with his thumbs.

Her hands around his neck, she fell back onto the bed, pulling him on top of herself. Feeling his hardness press against her pulsating folds and overwhelmed with the desire to feel more of him, closer, deeper, rawer, Anne thrust her hips upwards, uttering a low, needy moan.

‘Anne,’ Gilbert groaned, drawing himself up a little and looking down at her glowing face, brushing stray locks of hair away from it to be able to see her eyes better.

Gazing up at him, she smiled in a dazed way, and said softly, ‘Go on, Gil. _Please_. I really—I need you to so much—’

He kissed her, quick and hard, and moved his hands down to her knickers. She raised her hips a little, allowing him to slide them down. As she lay naked before him, her hair all mussed up and her eyes darkened with want, Gilbert felt such an unprecedented amount of arousal sweep over him that it was a wonder to him he didn’t come by just looking at her.

Anne’s frowned a little, bending her knees up and pressing her thighs together. ‘Gil, please,’ she breathed. ‘Do something – anything – I need you so much – please, Gil—‘

In one swift movement, he had discarded his boxers and was hovering above her again, his whole power of will centred on not thrusting into her immediately. His eyes fixed on her face, he stroked her slick folds gently with his index finger, and then pushed it slowly inside her.

Anne closed her eyes, a small gasp escaping her mouth.

‘Is this all right, darling?’ he asked in a voice that was so strained it was barely intelligible.

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘More, Gil. I want more.’

Tentatively, he added another finger. His carefulness, however, was quite wasted, for Anne thrust her hips upwards once more and reached down, her slender fingers closing around his almost painfully hard member.

‘I want you inside me,’ she said in a voice that had become a whimper. ‘Now, Gil. _Please_.’

‘Anne,’ he stammered, gently withdrawing his fingers and drawing her hand away as well for fear he might spill right into it. ‘ _Anne_ —’

He wanted to ask her, one last time, whether she was completely certain, but found himself unable to utter any word that wasn’t her name.

Sensing his hesitation, Anne reached up to kiss him very briefly on the jaw and whispered, ‘Gil, I am sure. Please. I’ve been waiting for you so long—’

As his tip brushed her centre, her hips bucked up again, and he entered her more quickly and sharply than he’d planned to. She gave a small cry, half of surprise, half of pain.

‘I’m sorry, love,’ he breathed, keeping himself still with an enormous effort. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She opened her eyes and smiled uncertainly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. ‘It’s okay, Gil. Move. I need you to move.’

Keeping his eyes on hers, he began thrusting into her, doing his best to keep the pace slow and gentle.

‘You feel so wonderful, Anne,’ he murmured, giving her a hot, open-mouthed kiss. ‘You’re so warm. So soft. I never imagined—‘

Anne smiled against his lips. ‘You can go faster, Gil,’ she breathed. ‘I want you to go faster.’

He complied, and when he felt her raise her hips to match his own movements he groaned, and leaned down to take one of her hard nipples into his mouth.

‘ _Oh_ , Gil,’ Anne whimpered, her hand on the back of his head.

He thrust into her with increasing urgency, while his mouth worked at her breasts, sucking, kissing and nibbling. He wanted so much to make this as wonderful for her as it was for him, and the way she was writhing underneath him now told him he was doing something right.

‘Gil!’ she cried, her legs going up to wrap themselves around him, which allowed him to deepen the thrusts still more. ‘Oh, Gil, this is so— Oh, my God—‘

As he felt her walls begin to contract around him and her nails dig into the skin of his back, he looked up, wanting to see her face when the moment of release finally came. His thrusts were becoming erratic, and he knew he was close to the edge himself.

‘Anne—my sweetest, my darling Anne—‘ he panted, spilling into her warm, welcoming depths, and feeling her arch up into him in a last, final moment of ecstasy.

They stayed still and silent for a few seconds, Gilbert’s face buried in Anne’s fragrant hair and her arms wrapped around his back. To move at all seemed an absurd impossibility. The only conceivable thing to do was to stay like this, with her, here, forever.

Eventually, however, he slipped out of her, at which she gave a small, regretful gasp. He lay beside her, supporting himself on his elbow so that he might look into her face.

‘Hello,’ Anne said softly, giving him a languid smile.

Gilbert stroked her cheek delicately, reverently. He had loved her for as long as he could remember, but, though he would never have supposed it possible, the feeling seemed to have grown a million times stronger now that she was so completely, irrevocably his, and he hers.

‘Are you all right, darling?’ he asked, a flash of anxiety breaking through the cloud of contented bliss that enveloped him. ‘I—I didn’t hurt you very much, did I?’

Anne pulled his face down for a slow, lingering kiss. ‘Only a little; and that was nothing compared to—to how you made me feel,’ she whispered, and he saw by the expression of her eyes that she meant it.

She snuggled against him, and they lay for a few moments more in satisfied, motionless silence. Then, with a small sigh, Anne sat up, wrapping a blanket that lay on the foot of the bed around her sweat-covered body. ‘I’ll go take a shower,’ she said, turning towards Gilbert with a smile that was just a little shy. ‘Will you stay the night?’

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and, bending down to give him a last quick peck on the lips, Anne got off the bed and disappeared into the corridor.


	11. just one hit of you and I know I’ll never be the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> watch them go and be cute about it :D  
> (hopefully)

When Anne awoke next morning, the first thing she realised was that she was deeply, blissfully happy.

The second, with a quickening of her pulse, that she had had sex with Gilbert Blythe the day before, and it had been more wonderful and on quite another plane than anything she had experienced before.

The third, with a shiver, that she was lying in her bed all alone, despite the fact that she remembered very definitely falling asleep wrapped in Gilbert’s arms.

Her eyes snapped open. Judging by the amount of light in the room, it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. And yet, he wasn’t there. He had left her.

He had left her. He had gone away, gone back to Charlottetown presumably, and the next time she’d hear from him it would be to be told that it had all been a mistake anyway.

Two big tears slid down Anne’s sleep-flushed cheeks. She rolled onto her side, wrapping the sheets tightly around her body and trying to be shut her mind to the fact that they were permeated with h i s smell.

The door to her room creaked open.

Gilbert stood on the threshold, looking down at her with an adoring, boyish grin.

‘Good morning, love,’ he said softly, coming over to sit down on the edge of the bed. As his eyes took in Anne’s face from close up, his expression changed to one of uneasy confusion. ‘Anne, have you been crying? What’s the matter?’

‘Where—‘ Anne began, her voice rusty. Clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘Where have you been?’

‘At home, to change,’ replied Gilbert, his eyes scanning her face anxiously. ‘Anne, please tell me what’s wrong? Are you—’ he paused, frowning nervously. ‘Are you hurt?’

It was all right, Anne told herself. He was here, and, judging by the way he looked at her, he hadn’t experienced a sudden change of heart.

She took a deep, steadying breath. ‘I’m fine. A little sore, perhaps, but it’s a price worth paying,’ she added, attempting a roguish smile.

Gilbert edged closer and reached out a hand to stroke her hair. ‘Then why do you look so miserable? You know I’m going to worm it out of you eventually, Anne, so you might just as well spare us both the trouble and tell me right away.’ He was smirking now, but his eyes remained uneasy.

She snorted dismissively, and, sitting up, kissed him lingeringly on the mouth.

‘Don’t try those tricks with me, miss,’ he chuckled, breaking away. ‘No reply, no kisses.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. If you must know, I thought you must have regretted what happened yesterday, and sneaked out of here before I woke up.’

Gilbert frowned incredulously. ‘Anne, I’m sorry, but that’s absurd. You really don’t believe what I said yesterday, then? Because I meant every single word.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Anne groaned, hiding her face in her hands. ‘I guess it’s just difficult for me to realise someone like you can really want to be with me.’

She felt Gilbert’s fingers close around her wrists and gently draw her hands away. He gazed into her eyes, his face intent and earnest. ‘Anne, you are my whole world. I’m never going to leave you unless you drive me away by force. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.’ He let go of her hands and reached up to cup her face. ‘Is this clear, or do you want me to repeat it?’

Anne let out a small, somewhat choked laugh. ‘It is. I love you too, Gil. Very, very, much.’ She leaned forward and kissed him, and felt him smile against her lips.

‘What would you like for breakfast? Scrambled eggs? Pancakes? Toast?’ he asked, breaking off and smirking at her discontented gasp.

Anne raised her eyebrows. ‘As far as I’m aware there’s nothing but stale bread in this house.’

‘There is, because I’ve just brought it over myself,’ replied Gilbert, getting off the bed and stretching his arms. ‘Eggs, and butter, and everything. So, you see, saying you’ll just have coffee isn’t an option.’

‘Why?’ asked Anne feebly, a little daunted by the prospect of forcing scrambled eggs down her throat so early in the day.

‘Because,’ Gilbert said with a disarmingly triumphant smile, ‘I am your boyfriend now, which means I get to take care of you. And, just to warn you, I plan on doing it very thoroughly. So come on up, princess,’ he extended a hand towards Anne’s reclining form.

Although his words caused a wave of warmth to spread all over Anne’s body, she couldn’t stop herself from observing sceptically, ‘I don’t remember telling you that you are my boyfriend.’

She put her hand in Gilbert’s as she said this, and he pulled her up and straight into his arms. She could feel the warmth radiating off his body through the thin fabric of her nightdress, and he smelled so fresh and clean and _Gilbert_ that Anne hummed with pleasure as she pressed her face to his chest.

‘You didn’t have to tell me,’ he chuckled into her hair. ‘Your actions spoke for themselves.’

Blushing a little, Anne looked up and pulled his face down for a kiss. ‘It’s not fair,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘You’re all spick and span and I look and feel such a mess. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better next time—‘

‘Anne, are you kidding?’ Gilbert leaned back a little, scrunching up his face funnily. ‘You look wonderful. Do you even realise how often I’ve dreamed about being allowed to see you like this?’ She snorted incredulously, and he kissed her again. ‘I mean it.’

‘Sure,’ she snickered, disentangling herself from his arms and looking round for her discarded clothes from the day before. It occurred to her she might as well begin her reformation by cleaning them away.

‘I’ve put your things into the laundry,’ Gilbert said, interpreting her actions correctly. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Anne gasped, blinking up at him in disbelief. ‘Gil, you can’t spoil me like that.’

He winked at her, and disappeared into the corridor.

***

Twenty minutes later, Anne, in what she hoped was a reasonably decent state, marched into the kitchen.

Gilbert was seated at the table, a plateful of toast and a pot of steaming coffee in front of him.

Anne slid into the chair opposite, and he gave her a warm smile. ‘Help yourself,’ he said, munching away at his own piece of toast.

‘Gil, it’s really wonderful of you to—to behave like this,’ she said a little uncertainly, keeping her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. ‘But you really don’t have to do this.’

‘I know,’ he replied calmly.

‘You _know_?’ Anne raised her head.

‘I know I don’t _have_ to do it, as in, I am not legally bound to,’ he went on imperturbably, helping himself to another piece of toast. ‘I also know I _want_ to do it, as in, I am madly in love with you, Anne Shirley, and I want to do whatever little I can to let you know that. So, unless you can state some valid objections, I’m going to continue to do just that.’

The warmth that had been growing within Anne’s heart and body since the moment he came into her bedroom this morning increased yet another degree.

‘Thank you, Gil,’ she said simply.

‘Eat up before it gets cold.’

She poured herself some coffee and took a bite of toast. ‘Mmm,’ she hummed appreciatively. ‘This is tasty. I’m really rather hungrier than I thought.’

‘I should think so,’ chuckled Gilbert. ‘You really are a restless sleeper. I’m not sure that such incessant tossing and turning can really be classified as “sleeping”.’

Anne flushed crimson. ‘I’m—I’m sorry, Gil, I—‘

‘Anne, relax, I’m just kidding,’ he grinned, and then added in a less bantering, lower voice, ‘Last night was by far the best night of my life.’

‘Because it was so nice and peaceful sleeping next to me?’ Anne asked with spurious innocence.

‘Yeah,’ he said, his eyes intense on hers. ‘That, and a few other things too.’

Anne bit her lip, her gaze flickering down to his mouth and then his hands. Those hand. Those fingers, and the way they—For Heaven’s sake, it would _never_ do to think about such things during breakfast!

‘Anyway, where did you even get all this stuff from?’ she asked, focusing on her toast once again. ‘I thought the grocery store didn’t open until nine on Sundays.’

‘I told you, I sneaked into my house for a change of clothing.’

‘Did anyone see you?’ Anne asked, suddenly realising that the fact that Gilbert had spent a night at Green Gables must have been noticed by at least two people. ‘I mean, were Bash and Mary up yet?’

‘No, they weren’t. But, Anne,’ he went on, a serious note entering his voice. ‘I hope you don’t plan on keeping our relationship secret, or any foolishness of that kind. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and everyone is welcome to know that as far as I’m concerned.’

‘Of course not, Gil,’ Anne said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s just that – it’s all so new to me, I guess.’

‘That makes two of us. But I don’t mind,’ he added, reaching out over the table and taking her hand. ‘I hope there are many more wonderful things which neither of us has done before that we’ll get to do together.’

She smiled back at him dreamily, lacing her fingers through his.

Suddenly, the contented silence between them was rent by the shrill sound of the doorbell.

‘Who on earth may that be?’ Anne got up unwillingly, a surprised frown on her face.

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps your new friend, Mr Gardner,’ he suggested coolly, getting up as well.

Anne snickered, stopping in her tracks towards the door. ‘You are unbelievable, Gilbert Blythe. I might as well let you know right now that the scene you made yesterday was ridiculous, and, anyway, you can’t possibly be jealous about a kiss on the cheek after last night.’

Coming up to where she stood, Gilbert sneaked an arm round Anne’s waist from behind and pulled her flush against himself. ‘Especially after last night, miss Shirley,’ he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on Anne’s skin. ‘I am going to be jealous of everyone. You are mine,’ he moved his lips to her neck, ‘and only mine.’

‘Gil,’ breathed Anne, her knees buckling underneath her.

The doorbell rang out again, more insistently than before.

Anne disentangled herself from Gilbert’s arms, shooting him a reproachful look over her shoulder. He merely smirked, putting his hands in his pockets.

The door revealed a very agitated Mrs Boutler, Tillie’s mother and a particular crony of Mrs Lynde’s.

‘Oh, thank God, child!’ she exclaimed, pushing a hamper full of groceries into Anne’s hands. ‘I was just going to call an ambulance!’

‘An ambulance?’ repeated Anne uncomprehendingly.

‘I was sure you were murdered, or fainted, or something dreadful like that,’ explained the worthy lady, bustling into the hall. ‘Rachel has promised Marilla to make sure you’ll have someone check up on you from time to time while they’re both away, make sure you have regular meals and such—‘ She gave Anne a good, thorough look up and down, and pursed up her lips disapprovingly. ‘Are you quite well, child? You really look rather wan.’

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs. Boutler, I’m perfectly all right,’ Anne stuttered uncomfortably. ‘Thank you very much for the – the food,’ she finished lamely, following the older woman into the kitchen.

‘And how are you getting on all on your own on this beautiful Sunday mor—‘

‘Good morning, Mrs. Boutler,’ Gilbert nodded, smiling politely.

‘Gilbert has dropped in to check up on me as well,’ said Anne in what she hoped was an easy tone, depositing the heavy basket on the counter with a sigh of relief.

Mrs. Boutler looked from the complacent Gilbert to the flushed Anne.

‘Looking at you, child, I’d say he hasn’t been doing a very good job,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You look positively ill. Feverish. You know you should rest, and not exert yourself? You’re still a convalescent, after all. How’s your arm?’

‘My arm?’ asked Anne stupidly.

‘The arm you’ve broken! They only took the cast off – what, two days ago?’ Eying Anne suspiciously, Mrs. Boutler spoke in a lowered tone to Gilbert. ‘Gilbert, this girl seems to have memory trouble. It’s probably the fever. You’re a reasonable young man. If you’ve nothing better to do, perhaps you’d be so kind as to watch over her for the rest of the day? That would be a nice Christian thing to do on the Lord’s Day.’

Anne, who had busied herself about unpacking the hamper, tried to choke back her laughter and ended up emitting an unspecified, spluttering noise.

‘Anne, do you have breathing trouble as well? Perhaps it’s delayed shock.’

Gilbert felt this was the moment to rush to Anne’s defence. ‘Of course I’ll look after Anne, Mrs. Boutler. I’ll make sure she doesn’t _exert_ herself unnecessarily.’ The slight suggestive note that had entered his voice was inaudible to Mrs. Boutler, but Anne caught it and it made her bite the inside of her mouth.

‘Thank you, Gilbert. I know she’s safe in your hands. Goodbye, Anne.’

Anne turned round with a sweet smile on her lips. ‘Goodbye, Mrs Boutler. Thank you once again.’

‘Don’t mention it, child. Do be a good girl and do as Gilbert here tells you.’

Capping those words with a matronly smile, Mrs. Boutler exited the house, accompanied to the door by a complaisant Gilbert.

As soon as she heard the door click closed, Anne subsided into the nearest chair, bursting into a fit of giggling.

‘What’s so funny?’ Gilbert stood leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

‘You in the role of a cackling hen,’ replied Anne, stretching herself luxuriously in the chair.

Raising his eyebrows, Gilbert came up to where she sat, extending his hand. She accepted it, and let him pull her to her feet.

‘Call it what you want, I meant every word of it,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I a m going to make sure you get your rest. You have been wearing yourself out these past few weeks with worrying about Marilla, and the constant visits to the hospital, and—‘

‘And missing you,’ put in Anne, wrapping her arms around Gilbert’s neck and pressing herself closer. ‘Do you know any remedy for that, _Dr_ Blythe?’

‘Wasn’t that particular problem cured yesterday?’ he asked, his eyes getting darker.

‘To the contrary.’ Anne pressed her lips to his throat. ‘Yesterday actually only made things much worse. It now seems to me I miss you even when we’re in the same room, or even when we’re as close as this.’ She buried her face in crook of his neck. ‘Because I keep thinking about how much closer we could get.’

‘Anne,’ Gilbert titled up her chin and kissed her deeply on the mouth, his hands straying down to the small of her back. ‘You are the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.’

‘Even though I’m all _worn_ out and, apparently, suffering from delayed shock?’ she giggled, leaning back and scrunching up her face in mock offence.

‘That reminds me.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, and, much to Anne’s disappointment, released her from his arms. ‘Finish your breakfast, and then we’re going out for some sun and fresh air.’

Anne dropped back down into the chair, folding her arms resentfully.

‘You’re doing a terrible job of being a boyfriend, Gilbert,’ she observed, pouting. ‘I don’t know why I ever began fancying you.’

‘Yeah?’ he quirked an eyebrow at her over his shoulder. ‘If you behave like a good girl and follow your doctor’s orders, I might consider reminding you later in the day.’

‘Oh, go away,’ she said irritably. Gilbert’s words made her shift uneasily in her chair. ‘Since when are you so sure of yourself, anyway? You’ll be sorry when I begin to act the way you do, ordering you around and breaking off every kiss before it’s even begun.’

‘Whatever you say, Anne,’ he chuckled, disappearing up the stairs.

***

The sun was high in the sky and the air was rippling with heat, but in the shade by the little stream where Anne lay dozing on a blanket it was cool and fresh.

‘Hey, sleeping princess,’ a voice said softly somewhere close to her left ear. ‘Wake up.’

She felt the touch of warm fingers on her cheek, and, reaching out to clutch at the hand of which they were part, she snuggled against the arm of its owner without opening her eyes.

‘Anne,’ chuckled Gilbert, stroking her hair with his other hand. ‘It’s almost two in the afternoon, and Mary just called me to invite us to lunch.’

Anne sat bolt upright, blinking furiously as she tried to focus on the face hovering a few inches away from hers.

‘She did what?’ she croaked. Then her eyes strayed down to Gilbert’s chest, which, for some reason, was completely bare.

‘Why on earth are you half-naked, Gil?’ she asked, suddenly feeling much more awake. She hadn’t had presence of mind enough for noticing such things the day before, but now she saw that it was a very, very nice, broad, reasonably muscular chest indeed.

‘It’s really hot out in the sun,’ he replied, noticing the way her eyes were roaming over his torso and blushing a little in spite of his veneer of self-assurance.

Anne scooted over closer to his side, and reached out her fingertips to trace a line across his stomach.

‘What are you doing?’ Gilbert asked amusedly, but there was an edge to his voice which Anne knew the meaning of by now, and which made her shift even closer to him. She knelt up and lay a trail of kisses along his collarbone.

‘I love the way your skin smells,’ she murmured, moving her lips up to his neck. ‘It is so—so...’ she broke off, searching for the right word. Her fingers were straying lower, until they reached the trail of dark hair that began below his navel and disappeared under the line of his belt.

‘So what?’ Gilbert asked in a somewhat strained voice.

‘So you,’ she breathed, pushing him down onto the ground and beginning to shower his chest with feather-like kisses.

‘Anne, you have to stop,’ he groaned as her lips strayed lower down. She hummed against the skin of his stomach, and felt him tremble. Then, with one swift movement, Gilbert shifted their positions, so that she was lying beneath him, her wrists pinned down by his hands.

‘You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?’ he asked, his eyes smouldering. He bent down and kissed her on the lips, quick and hard.

‘It’s not my fault,’ Anne said breathlessly when he broke away. ‘How would _you_ react if _I_ started parading around naked from the waist up?’

Gilbert clenched his jaw, and then kissed her once again, more gently this time. ‘Anne, we really have to go. I promise to make it up to you,’ he added with a smirk, seeing her frown unhappily.

He let go of her hands and, getting up, turned round in search of his shirt.

‘My God, Gil, what’s happened to you?’ Anne asked in a frightened voice, scrambling hurriedly to her feet as Gilbert spun back round to face her.

‘What do you mean?’ he sounded genuinely confused.

‘Your back!’ Anne turned him round by the arm so that she might get a closer look at that part of his body. There were bright red scratches going from his shoulder blades all the way down his spine. ‘What have you been doing with yourself, Gil?’

‘I haven’t been doing anything,’ he replied with a meaningful snicker. ‘It’s _you_ who’s responsible, Anne.’

‘What do you mean, me?’ she asked, and then gasped in sudden comprehension. ‘Oh my God, Gil, I’m sorry. I—I swear I didn’t mean to do something like this.’

Gilbert laughed, bending down to retrieve his shirt and shrugging it back on. ‘Anne, I would have to be an utter fool to resent your making these marks. They’re kind of physical proof you really enjoyed last night, aren’t they?’ He gave her a questioning, boyish smile.

Anne grasped the open tails of his shirt and, pushing herself up on tiptoe, pressed her lips to his. ‘You can’t possibly doubt that, Gil,’ she murmured, her eyes sparkling.

‘Of course I don’t. It was a simple statement of fact,’ he replied teasingly.

‘Idiot,’ huffed Anne, letting go of his shirt and bending down to pick up her hat. The lunch with Bash and Mary really couldn’t be over _too_ soon so far as she was concerned.

And she had a kind of pulse-quickening certainty that Gilbert shared her views on this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be the last chapter, but it got rather longer than I planned, and there's still that ring which everyone but Gilbert have forgotten about and which has to be dealt with somehow, 
> 
> sooo see you, I guess :D


	12. slowly, slowly // you unfold me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been a week (not t h a t long, am I right?)  
> and here it is, the ending of this torturous journey :D

‘Anne, I hope you won’t mind my saying this, but half a day spent in Gilbert’s company seems to have done you more good than a month under _my_ care.’ Mary sent Anne a warm smile across the table littered with the remains of their lunch. ‘You look so much better than you did when you left this house last Friday.’

Anne smiled happily back. ‘I'm feeling much better, too.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Bash, coming into the room with a broad grin on his face. ‘What’s this I hear about “half a day”? Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say “half a day and a _whole_ night?’

‘Bash, you _promised_!’ Mary sent him a warning look.

‘He promised what?’ Gilbert, who had gone upstairs to his room a moment before, appeared in the doorway.

‘Promised to pretend I am oblivious as to where and what you and Anne-with-an-e here were doing last night, my dear Blythe,’ replied Bash with a snicker.

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, coming up to the table to sit down next to Anne. ‘You imagine you know, then?’ he asked coolly.

‘Oh, look at him being all smug about it,’ chuckled Sebastian. ‘Well, after all, you’ve been preparing for this since you were what, fifteen?’

Mary’s eyes flashed from Gilbert’s dangerously tense jaw to Anne’s crimson face, and then settled on her husband. ‘Bash, this is your last warning. There’s a time to make dirty jokes, and there’s a time to just be happy for people who love each other and have finally gotten together. Now’s the latter.’

‘All right, all right,’ Bash raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. ‘I hope you excuse me, Anne-with-an-e,’ he continued, smiling at the girl good-humouredly. ‘No offence meant for _you_.’

‘None taken,’ laughed Anne. ‘I realise it's taken us rather a long time to get things right compared to you and Mary.’

‘Well, after all you’re still very young,’ put in Mary reasonably. ‘You’ve got all the time in the world to take things slow.’

‘Yeah, I bet Blythe dreams about nothing else than taking things slow, Mary,’ Sebastian said ironically. ‘It’s not like he spent _years_ pining after his goddess.’

‘This is the end of this conversation!’ spoke up Gilbert sharply, clenching his jaw. ‘Seriously, Bash—‘

‘Gil, calm down,’ giggled Anne, placing her palm on his thigh under the table in a soothing gesture and rubbing small circles over the fabric of his trousers with her thumb.

‘Are you going back to Charlottetown again tomorrow, Gilbert?’ asked Mary.

‘No,’ replied Gilbert a little absently, trying not to think about the warmth that spread all over his body from the place where Anne’s small hand was lying.

‘I wonder why,’ put in Bash innocently.

‘Because I’ve been working pretty much all summer, and perhaps deserve a little rest!’ Gilbert countered hotly, and then took in a sharper breath as Anne’s fingers squeezed his thigh warningly.

‘He’s hyperventilating,’ said Sebastian to Mary in a theatrical aside.

His wife ignored him, and went on pleasantly, ‘And how does Marilla like the nursing home, Anne?’

‘Oh, she’s as fine as could be expected,’ replied Anne, shrugging her shoulders and sitting up, so that her hand slid a little higher up Gilbert’s leg. ‘Thankfully, Mrs Lynde is doing an excellent job keeping her company.’

‘And,’ Bash said with a pretence at solemnity, ‘if, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining, it’s certainly a happy coincidence that you happen to have your house all to yourself for a few weeks, isn’t in, Anne-with-an-e? It grants you freedom of movement and occupation.’

On its merciless way upwards, Anne’s palm had by now almost reached Gilbert’s crotch, and he finally arrested its progress by clutching at her wrist and drawing it away.

‘Gilbert, are you okay? You look weird,’ said Mary, regarding him with furrowed brows. ‘You’ve turned terribly pale all of a sudden.’

‘I’m fine.’ Gilbert’s voice was somewhat choked, and he cleared his throat uneasily. ‘I think I’ve just eaten a little too much.’

‘Your cooking is way too excellent for anybody’s good, Mary,’ put in Anne, giving the older woman a sweet smile. ‘I feel rather stuffed myself. Perhaps we should just go and try walk it off a little, don’t you think, Gil?’

‘Yeah, seems a good idea to me.’ He laced his fingers through hers and got to his feet, pulling her up as well. Without a pause to say goodbye, he dragged her towards the door.

‘Thank you for the invitation, Mary. Bye, Bash,’ Anne smiled over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you!’

‘Since when does Blythe have such a weak stomach?’ chuckled Bash as the door closed after the young couple.

***

As soon as Anne and Gilbert had turned a corner in the path that was a shortcut through the meadows from his house to Green Gables, she span round to face him, giggling uncontrollably.

He let go of her hand and, folding his arms across his chest, stood looking at her with an expression of wry amusement on his face.

‘How old are you, fourteen?’ he asked, quirking a deprecating eyebrow. ‘I really would have thought you were better than such childish games, Anne.’

‘This was punishment for all the broken-off kisses,’ she replied archly. ‘I would be easier for me to be on my best behaviour around you if you hadn’t persisted in playing the doctor’s part since morning.’

He frowned. ‘I’m not playing a part, Anne, I’m trying to take care of you—‘

She silenced him by winding her arms round his neck and kissing him on the lips. ‘I know, Gil. And it’s extremely lovely of you. But don’t you agree that it seems like an awfully long time since last night? The reason I can’t keep my hands off you is because it all seems like a dream, so that I feel the need to touch you to make sure you’re really here.’

‘I’ll always be here,’ Gilbert said huskily into her hair. ‘Always, Anne.’

‘I know.’

‘But,’ he added slowly, drawing a little away and looking into her eyes. ‘You’re kinda right about the ‘awfully long’ part.’

‘Am I?’ Anne asked, pressing herself closer and watching Gilbert’s eyes grow darker. ‘So, what do you suggest we do about it?’

He leant down and moved his lips to her ear. ‘Get home so that I can tear this dress off you like I’ve been wanting to do since morning.’

Anne shivered, and then disentangled herself from Gilbert’s arms and tugged at his hand, beginning to walk on at a quick pace.

‘Someone’s in a hurry,’ he teased, chuckling. ‘I thought you said you were going to act all demure and drive me crazy with waiting.’

‘Changed my mind. I’ll begin tomorrow.’

***

‘Good morning, Queen Anne.’

Anne blinked, and the blurry vision hovering a few inches away crystallised into the grinning face of a very dishevelled Gilbert Blythe.

‘Queen?’ she asked sleepily, closing her eyes again and snuggling closer to him.

‘Queen of my heart,’ he replied, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. ‘My body,’ he moved his lips to her collarbone. ‘And my soul,’ he finished against her neck, showering it with kisses.

‘You’re tickling me,’ she giggled, trying to push him away.

Gilbert moved his head back onto the pillow, and Anne reached out to touch his cheek. ‘I love waking up next to you,’ she said, gazing into his adoration-filled eyes.

He smirked. ‘You tell me. I’ve woken up about ten times in the past seven hours, and each time I was unable to get my head around the fact that Anne Shirley is willingly spending the night in the same bed with me.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Unbelievable, I know.’

‘You have no idea how much. After that party, I was sure I had screwed everything up completely.’

Anne lay silent for a few moments, tracing lines down Gilbert’s chest with her fingertips and listening to the steady beating of his heart.

‘You know what makes me even more happy, Gil?’ she asked quietly, looking up with a small smile. ‘Even though it probably means I’m extremely sentimental and old-fashioned.’

‘Well?’ he took her palm in his and raised it to his lips.

‘The fact that you’re the only person in the world who knows me like – like this,’ she finished with an awkward little giggle. ‘Now, feel free to tell me how silly I am,’ she added archly, seeing his eyes light up.

Gilbert raised himself up on his elbow and for a moment looked down at her with an inscrutable expression. Then, he bent down quickly, kissing her hard on the lips. Anne wound her arms around his neck, pulling his body flush against her own.

‘I’ve never been with anyone else before either,’ he said hoarsely, breaking off and brushing stray strands of hair away from her glowing face. ‘There could never be anyone for me. Only you, Anne.’

Anne raised her eyebrows. ‘I was certain you must have had sexy female students of medicine falling all over you,’ she said, sounding genuinely incredulous.

‘You know I couldn’t ever care for anyone else but you, Anne,’ Gilbert replied, his voice serious.

‘Well, even if it’s true—‘

‘If?’ He repeated, narrowing his eyes. ‘If, Anne?’

‘Well—‘

She was interrupted by another heady kiss.

‘If?’ Gilbert repeated demandingly against her lips.

Placing her palms against his chest, Anne pushed him up to a sitting position and, cupping his face in her hands, kissed him again and again.

‘To resume,’ she laughed, breaking off. ‘In spite of the fact that I _know_ ,’ she placed a quick kiss in the corner of his mouth, ‘for certain that you could never care for anyone but me, it’s the twenty-first century, and having casual sex is nothing out of the ordinary.’ She tried to sound worldly and nonchalant, but the anxious look in her eyes gave her away.

‘I see you still don’t believe me,’ he chuckled, kissing her shoulder and giving her a sideways look.

‘Of course I believe you,’ Anne scoffed. ‘It’s just that you’re so good at it, I guess,’ she added, flushing a little.

‘It’s _you_ who gets the credit for that,’ Gilbert murmured, laying a trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone. ‘You’re so amazing, Anne,’ he went on, nuzzling lower to where her nightdress exposed the cleavage between her breasts. ‘So sweet. So lovely. So wonderfully responsive.’

‘Gil,’ Anne breathed, tangling her fingers in his hair. Bringing his head up, she rested her forehead against his. ‘I love you so much. I can’t imagine being away from you again. I think I’d go crazy with missing you.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Gilbert smiled, drawing back a little and gazing at her with strange intensity. ‘Will you marry me, Anne Shirley?’

Anne’s eyes widened; she opened her mouth and promptly shut it back again. Then, frowning a little, she said, ‘Gil, I don’t really appreciate this kind of jokes.’

Gilbert stared. ‘I’m not joking, Anne,’ he said, his voice tinged with anxiety. ‘I’m asking you to marry me. I’ve never been more in earnest in my entire life.’

‘But, Gil—‘ Anne nervously put her hands up to her throat, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. ‘It’s not like I was trying to – I don’t know, trap you into proposing to me. I—‘

‘Anne,’ interrupted Gilbert, grasping her wrists and gently drawing her hands away from her neck. Lacing his fingers through hers, he said emphatically, ‘There is absolutely no question of _you_ trapping _me_. If anything, it’s me who wants to make sure everyone knows we belong to each other. But,’ he added hastily, ‘it’s okay if you think it’s too early for such declarations. I understand.’

‘So,’ Anne asked slowly, scrunching up her nose, ‘do you want me to say yes or don’t you?’

Gilbert shifted uneasily, tightening his hold on her hands. ‘Of course I do. But I don’t want you to feel pressured into it, or to only accept under the influence of – of the moment, I guess.’

‘Are _you_ sure you’re not only proposing under the influence of the moment?’ Anne asked a bit sneeringly.

Gilbert let out an incredulous laugh. ‘Anne, I hate to bring this up right now, but Bash w a s right on one point. I _have_ spent years dreaming about – about the time when our relationship should get to this stage.’

‘The stage when you could finally have sex with me, you mean? How like a man.’ She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

‘No, Anne,’ Gilbert smirked. ‘The stage when I could finally tell you that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life as your husband. And,’ he went on a bit embarrassedly, ‘I’ve actually got physical proof of that.’

Anne stared. ‘Physical proof of what?’

‘Of the fact that I have long hoped it would come to a proposal one day. The ring.’

‘The—‘ Anne gasped. ‘Oh, you mean _the_ ring?’

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. ‘I bought it three years ago, actually. I overheard you talking to Diana one day, discussing Prissy Andrews’ engagement ring and saying you liked pearls better than the kind of larger than life diamond affair she wore. And then, some weeks later, I spotted that ring when I was at the Toronto shopping mall. Of course,’ he added quickly, his eyes scanning Anne’s face anxiously, ‘I realise you wouldn’t want it now. I’ll buy you a different one. I just wanted to show you that I’m not only proposing to you because of what happened during the past two days.’

Throughout this rather torturous speech, Anne sat gazing at him pensively, biting her lip. ‘I never thought _that_ , Gil,’ she said softly as soon as he’d finished. ‘I was just teasing.’

‘Well, I'm _not_ teasing now,’ Gilbert countered decisively. ‘I love you, and I know it’s forever. So, to get back to the point,’ he took her face gently in his hands, gazing into her eyes with redoubled intensity. ‘Will you marry me, Anne?’

The corners of Anne’s mouth quirked upwards in an impish smile. ‘On one condition.’

‘Anything.’

Anne leaned in and kissed him lingeringly on the lips. ‘You won’t buy me a new ring. I love this one. I regretted having to return it after the party so much I was ashamed of myself.’

With a happy, although somewhat shaky laugh, Gilbert asked, ‘So, this means you’ve forgiven me for lying about it being borrowed?’

‘It means I want us both to forgive _and_ forget all those foolish things we did because we were scared to admit our feelings.’ Winding her arms around his neck, Anne pulled him back down onto the pillows. ‘And just focus on loving each other instead.’

She shivered in sweet anticipation as Gilbert hummed against her neck, covering it with kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who's read, left kudos & commented!!
> 
> In my mind, I have already written a kind of sequel to this story (it's the kind of thing that could only really happen in a modern AU. also, it's angsty and melodramatic. lol.)  
> whether it's going to ever come into real existence is as yet undecided :D


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